


Jealousy Strategies For Beginners

by huntersandangels



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Comedy of Errors, Dialogue Heavy, M/M, Mentions of an impending panic attack, Mistakenly Assumed Adultery, Misunderstandings, POV Multiple, everyone being extra, irrational jealousy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 20:48:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 35,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9202628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huntersandangels/pseuds/huntersandangels
Summary: These days Jonny is more married to his work than his husband, leaving Patrick to feel lonely and sad. Tyler comes to visit and while battling his inner romantic turmoil devises a plan to help his friend. It appears to have no success, until Duncan arrives with his own relationship problems that make Jonny suspicious. Confusion reaches its peak when the neighbouring couple, Brandon and Andrew, gets tangled in their web of lies with a little unintentional help of Artem who is trying to keep his illegal boyfriend in the US.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Self indulgent fic inspired by an old Greek comedy film. Being me, it derailed and turned out more angsty than funny I think. Multiple-pairing but Kazer-centric story, with an all-inclusive sub-plot -- some more than others. For once, a 30K+ one-chapter story because it was too hard for me to section it into parts.
> 
> Unbeta’d, all mistakes are my own. Proof-read by yours truly; this doesn’t say much being a non-native speaker, without a fancy Literature degree. In addition, being European means I was taught British English, which tends to sip through my writing. If something sounds too British to work please point it out to me.  
> All conversations between Anisimov and Panarin are in italics. Let’s pretend they’re in Russian and that we can all read and understand it. 
> 
> **Disclaimer:** Considering that this is a fictional story you can assume that the parts that are not true are obviously lies. Borrowing the boys and setting them in an alternative universe for entertainment purposes only.  
>  **Acknowledgements:** Z, who manages to offer her help while blackmailing me for it in the same sentence, who boosts my ego but at the same time tells me what doesn’t work and who, while taking a step back from hockey, lets herself be dragged into it as a favour to me (and because she’s secretly a masochist who can’t let go of things even if they hurt her). I need a better word than thank you because it doesn’t seem to cut it.  
>  **Additional Notes:** This has been on the making since early October. I’ve debated quite a while whether I should finish it or not because in the middle of writing I was made aware that someone linked a previous work of mine on another site tagging it ‘won’t ever read this again’ or something along those lines. I have no issues with constructive criticism or even people simply not finding my stories/writing to their taste. To actively link something that you disliked though and stating so, to me seems like a pointless, mean spirited, hurtful ‘rec’. Please refrain from doing so in the future and just ignore my work entirely.  
>  As for the rest of you, please excuse my passive-aggressiveness but keep in mind that though you may only see words on a screen there’s an actual person behind them with very real feelings.

 

 

**Jealousy**

_Jalousie/jealousy_

_“A sentiment which is born in love and which is produced by the fear that the loved person prefers someone else.”_ (Littré)

 

 

Patrick Kane watches in amusement as his friend, Tyler Seguin, struts down the airport corridor, not like a tourist but as if he owns the place. He has his jacket slung over his shoulder; his tattooed arms, still tanned, are exposed even in the chilly autumn air and his crooked smile is directed towards the slim, redheaded boy beside him, who can’t be a day over nineteen.

Tyler leans closer and whispers something in the boy’s ear; probably something filthy by the way the boy’s steps falter and his face flushes a deep red. Their shenanigans turn a few heads, utterly weird in a city like Chicago where everyone is always on the go.

Patrick shakes his head. “Tyler!” he yells, trying to catch his attention and spare the poor ginger boy any further embarrassment. He knows his friend and he can be a bit too much to handle for a grown adult, let alone a teenager. He always had been like that, even back when he was merely a boy himself.

Tyler turns - a grin already forming, wide and honest, the kind that reaches his eyes and makes their corners crinkle. He doesn’t dash to Patrick’s side; he walks his way backwards, waving at the boy and using his hand to make the ‘call me’ sign. Patrick can’t really see him but he’s one hundred percent sure he winks at him because the boy’s face heats up even more, if at all possible.

 “Nothing but trouble, I swear!” Patrick says when Tyler finally reaches him and envelopes him in a tight hug, yelling his name unnecessarily right into his ear.

“I’m wounded!” Tyler sighs dramatically as he detaches himself from Patrick. “I fly across the world for you and this is what I get? Lies and slander?”

Patrick shakes his head and chuckles. “You came from Texas, you drama queen! That’s like, not even a two-hour flight.”

“Semantics!” Tyler waves his hand dismissively. “I feel hurt, unloved and underappreciated! Maybe I should just leave.”

People are staring at them and they’re both aware of it. Tyler thrives in situations like this but Patrick feels the need to flee and hide.

“Tyler!” Patrick warns.

Tyler just stands there. He has his arms crossed and he’s actually pouting.

“Come on, Segs.” Patrick whines. “We can play your little games later. People are staring.”

Tyler shrugs. “Let them.”

Patrick knows he has no intention of moving. He has forgotten exactly how stubborn his friend really is. “Fine! You have my sincere apologies. Hello, Segsy. It’s so lovely to see you. How nice of you to come and visit us.” He spits out through gritted teeth.

Tyler narrows his eyes. “You don’t sound like you actually mean it. You can do better than that. Why don’t you try –“

Someone pokes Tyler on the shoulder cutting off his rant and Patrick feels so grateful until he looks up and sees who it is.

“Hey, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just- I wanted – I wanted to say goodbye. It was nice seeing you again, Tyler.”

Tyler seems like a completely different person than a moment ago. He looks young and fragile and Patrick hates it. It reminds him the only time in their long friendship when Tyler was only but a shadow of himself. He just nods and awkwardly shoves his hands in his pockets but not before Patrick notices the slight tremble in them. “Oh, yeah – Good to see you, too.”

“Well, I... I guess -- I’ll see you around, I guess.”

Patrick snorts and it’s the least he can do. If he were any good at fighting he’d probably slog the bastard. It’s a good thing that his strength is actively avoiding any kind of physical confrontation or else airport security would have had a field day.

“Oh! I- Hello, Patrick. How are you?”

Patrick crosses his arms on his chest. “Was better a minute ago.”

Tyler hisses a ‘Patrick’ while _he_ looks taken aback.

“I – yeah, so -- sorry for the interruption. I’ve got to-” His eyes linger on Tyler.

“Don’t let us keep you.” Patrick is not usually this rude but these are special circumstances.

“Uh- Yeah, I -- Nice to see you both.”

He walks away and isn’t that a sight they’ve seen before.

Patrick waits a few moments for him to not be in hearing distance and turns to Tyler.

“Seriously? What is he doing here? And what are you doing talking to that –“

“Don’t.” Tyler says and his voice is small and defeated. “Can we please just go?”

Patrick opens his mouth to protest but Tyler’s pleading look stops him. He picks up Tyler’s suitcase and the jacket he dropped when he hugged Patrick and motions him to follow.

The walk to the car is silent and though Patrick usually loves the quiet, the questions he wants to ask burn his tongue.

Tyler settles in the front seat as Patrick puts the suitcase in the trunk and when Patrick joins him, he turns his head towards the passenger window.

Patrick puts the key in the ignition but doesn’t turn it. He just – He can’t let it go. “So... Brown...”

Tyler sighs. “Can we not?”

“No. No, we can’t! He broke your fucking heart.”

“I know! I was there, remember?” Tyler snaps at him.

 _‘I was there, too’_ Patrick doesn’t say. _‘I was the one picking up the pieces.’_

“I’m sorry.” It’s what he ends up saying, fingers carding through his unfortunately thinning hair at the top of his head. “It’s just- I –“

“I know.” Tyler’s voice is a little warmer this time. “It’s fine. He broke my heart and perhaps I broke his back.” That’s highly unlikely, but Patrick doesn’t say it out loud.  Deep inside, they both know the truth. “We were just two dumb kids, Patrick. Let it go.”

“Have you?” He asks tentatively.

“Have I what?”

“Let it go. Because it seemed like-“

Tyler buries his face in his hands. “Don’t ask me that. Please. I don’t-“

He sounds so broken Patrick takes pity on him. He always suspected his friend never really got over him. He was almost certain the constant partying and losing himself to man after man was just a desperate attempt to fill that void inside him. Patrick thought he had come close a time or two, but clearly that hadn’t been the case.

They drive for a while, Patrick concentrating on the road and Tyler looking out the window. Patrick feels like shit and hates that the light in Tyler’s eyes had dimmed.

“So,” he tries to change the subject entirely, “who was that red-headed jail bait?” He hopes it sounds teasing and not like another round of interrogation.

Tyler chuckles lightly. “He was perfectly legal. I checked.”

“Asked for an ID and everything?”

“Saw his passport. Had a cute little photo, too.”

That peaks Patrick’s interest. “Passport? Land yourself a tourist?”

Tyler smirks. “Gotta make them feel welcome, don’t we?”

“You sure made him feel something.”

Tyler laughs. It’s not his genuine one but it’s close. “What can I say? I have game!”

“Is that so? Teach me your ways, Obi-Wan.”

Tyler groans. “God, you are such a dork. I can’t believe I used to think you were cool!”

“Hey! None of that!” Patrick protests. It’s been an ongoing debate between them. They’re both nerds really, just their tastes different a bit. “But seriously, what did you say to that poor kid? He looked positively stricken!”

Tyler smirks slyly. “I told him I want to play connect-the-dots with his freckles...”

Patrick finds it relatively mild of a comment knowing Tyler, until he finishes his sentence “...with my tongue!”

Patrick tsks and shakes his head.

“What? It works every time!”

“Sure it does!” Patrick’s just edging him on, happy that he sounds more like himself with every passing minute.

Tyler fixes him with his gaze and raises his eyebrow. “It did on you, didn’t it?”

Patrick groans. “It was just a drunken handjob forever ago, Segs. When are you going to let it go?”

Tyler laughs. “Never!”

It had been a low point in both their lives when it happened. Their hearts were breaking and they were burying their pain in alcohol. Patrick never regretted it. It got him Jonny after all.

“Don’t worry, though. I’ll try not to remind your hubby too many times!”

Patrick lets out a bitter snort. “I don’t think he’ll care either way.”

“Pfffft! It’s Jonathan Toews we’re talking about! That jealous, possessive freak will probably murder me with his eyes!”

Patrick feels the tears pool in his eyes and tries to blink them away. It had been so long since he knew that Jonny; the passionate one, who loved and claimed and cared.

“Speaking of, “Tyler continues and Patrick is grateful he didn’t catch on his internal turmoil “how is he?”

Patrick clears his throat. “He’s – He’s well, busy, you know? With the company picking up and everything.”

“Oh, yeah I saw! Congrats by the way. You know I’m not as dedicated as him but the stuff he sent was great.”

“No one is as dedicated as him.” Patrick comments bitterly.

“He’s seriously into all that shit, isn’t he?”

“Yeah.” Patrick doesn’t want to start this discussion because all the words that are trying to escape his tongue are venomous.

“What’s with the attitude? Is he trying to force you into it?” Tyler’s tone is concerned and Patrick can feel his eyes studying him.

“What? No!”

He can see Tyler raising his brow from the corner of his eye. “OK, he can be a little pushy-“

Tyler huffs at that because yeah, Jonny does get passionate and intense.

“No, really, he- We’ve talked about it. He gets it and he’s trying really hard to tone it down but- The thing with Jonny is- He gets people to end up following what he’s doing, you know? He’s just so smart that people gravitate towards what he-“

“Oh, Jesus Christ, here we go! I thought after all this time you’d have lost the heart eyes, but it’s getting worse, isn’t it?”

“Shut up!” He feels his cheeks heat up.

“I’m just teasing. You know I’m happy for you guys. You’re like all power couple, relationship goals type of thing.”

“We’re not,” he blurts “trust me.” It comes out biting and bitter.

Unfortunately, Tyler picks up on it this time. “Trouble in paradise?”

“We’re fine.” It sounds weak even to his own ears.

“Stop the car.” Tyler says.

“What?”

“I said pull over.”

Patrick drives a few metres to find a space and stops.

Tyler shifts his whole body towards him but Patrick keeps his eyes fixed straight ahead. “What has the asshole done this time?” It had been years since the last time Tyler called Jonny that. Patrick loves him a little more for it; for always having his back.

“Nothing.”

“Spare me the bullshit Kane. We’ve been down that road before. I know that fucking look on your face.”

“I don’t know what you mean, _Seguin_ , my face is naturally beautiful. Look at this bone structure.” He knows he won’t get out of this conversation and even if he did now, Tyler was bound to figure it out since he’ll be staying with them for a while.

“Patrick.” Tyler warns.

Patrick sighs a deep sigh. “Nothing, I swear. Absolutely nothing. That’s the problem really. It’s just... He lives and breathes work. And I’m proud, I swear I am. He’s doing so well and – It’s just-“He shakes his head not really knowing how to put his feelings into words. He hates that his voice breaks and he sounds so small and defeated.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Tyler exclaims and grabs Patrick by the jacket, enveloping him into a tight hug. “He’s gone into robot mode, hasn’t he?”

Patrick sniffs and nods. He allows himself another moment of comfort in Tyler’s arms and then he pulls away. “I am, you know. I’m really proud of him.” He needs Tyler to understand, to get it.

Tyler, bless his heart, does. “I know, Pat. Everyone knows how supportive you are and how much you’ve helped and I don’t just mean quitting your job to keep his books and manage his numbers.”

Patrick nods. “It’s just- I like that about him, you know? The way he throws himself into things he loves, how passionate he is- It’s just- I used to be -- I- I know I sound like a selfish asshole-“

“No, you don’t. It’s perfectly normal to want _and_ need your husband’s attention. I’m guessing you haven’t talked with him about it.”

Patrick bites his bottom lip, it’s a thing he does when he’s nervous. “I did. Kind of. He’s just- I thought when the company would finally pick up, he’d ease up, you know? But- He’s trying to expand beyond dietary natural supplements. He’s branching out to hygiene products and-Saad’s been trying to hook him up with this chemist in Columbus and- Organic based wash, Tyler! Who the hell cares what they shampoo their hair with or whatever but I can’t just-“

He feels himself getting riled up. “OK, that wasn’t- I care, alright? He does something he loves and he’s making a name of himself and the money is finally starting to pile up but so what? What do we get out of it? We barely even see each other. I can’t even remember the last time he even gave himself a day off. He’s always too tired and I get it, I really do. I just- I miss him.”

“You sound miserable.” Tyler sounds concerned.

“No, not... Just a bit sad perhaps, and,” he swallows hard, “lonely. I mean, I have friends, yeah? And we go out but it’s always- it’s just me. He- he cancelled like, the five last outings and people are starting to give me these looks, you know? And he- he’s sorry, yeah? I mean, the last time he bought me this watch- you have to see it Tyler, it’s like out of this world. Everyone was oohing and aahing and it must have cost him a fortune but I still felt -- I felt cheap. I just- I can’t really explain it.”

“I get it. It felt like buying your forgiveness.” Patrick doesn’t know when Tyler became such a relationship expert. Then again, he might just be a Patrick expert. He had picked his pieces as well once upon a time. “You need to talk to him, Pat. You need to tell him how you feel.”

“I tried, OK?” Patrick snaps. “Sorry.” He amends immediately. “He’s always apologetic afterwards and he gives me this hurt look and a speech about how he’s doing this for us and I end up looking like a nagging asshole of a husband.”

“Have you tried making him jealous? Like, he is so fiercely possessive it’s bound to rattle him.” Tyler suggests.

Patrick snorts. “He used to be. Not anymore, though. I have this assistant, because you know, work has been picking up for me as well, and one night I was so sore I could barely lift my arm and Artem was giving me a massage.  Jonny walked in and I was shirtless, right? Sprawled on the couch and moaning with Artem’s hands all over me and he – he just gave me this sympathetic look and he was like ‘Is your shoulder giving you trouble again, babe?”

“Jesus!”Tyler exclaims, eyes wide. “Seriously? Jon?”

Patrick nods mutely.

“I think you just weren’t trying. He probably doesn’t even see him as a threat. He needs to think he’s losing you.”

Patrick sighs. “I don’t want to be that guy, Ty. I – I don’t like these games.”

“Do you have any other option?” Tyler asks. “Do you think talking to him again will change anything?”

Patrick shakes his head. “No. He’s just- I feel like he’s slipping through my fingers, you know? We’re just not us anymore.”

“See? You let it fester and you’ll end up being strangers who happen to live in the same house.” Tyler sounds so convincing and Patrick is desperate.

“So what should I do?”

Tyler rubs his hands in glee, a mischievous grin on his face. “Step number one: the phone call.”

“The phone call?” Patrick asks puzzled.

“Yeah. You choose a moment when he’s about to enter the room. You pretend to dial, yeah? And when you see him you just end the call while seeming agitated.”

Patrick frowns. “It’s sounds so... simple. I don’t know. What does that... It won’t work, Ty. This is stupid.”

“It will.” Tyler insists. “The key is to look nervous; like you’ve been caught doing something you weren’t supposed to. Mumble something incomprehensible if he asks who you were talking to and that’s it.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“I am.” Tyler says confidently. “Now, step number two: You pick a place you haven’t visited for a while, or somewhere you wanted to go but didn’t end up visiting. You know a place like that?”

Patrick doesn’t have to think long and hard about it. “Yeah, there’s this gay club. It’s a new hot spot and I kept bugging him about it for weeks. I was so excited because a friend knew the DJ and he had promised to let me manage the decks for a while. I waited for him all night to come and I ended up missing it as well. It was why he bought me that dumb watch.”

“Great!” Tyler exclaims and Patrick wishes he could share his enthusiasm. “You haven’t been since, have you?”

Patrick shakes his head again.

“Perfect! You make an offhand comment, just like it slipped your tongue about how awesome it is; the vibes and the energy or something about the crowd. But you have to sell it like you’ve actually seen it. He’s bound to ask and then you’ll, you know, stutter and be at a loss for words and he’ll start to be suspicious.”

“OK. I think I can do that. Maybe.”

“That’s my boy!” Tyler pats him on the back. “Now step three: the name.”

“What name?”

“Just as you’re talking with Jon you casually call him by another name. Like ... Let me think, something he can’t associate with anyone safe.” Tyler puts on his thinking face.

Patrick is filled with doubts and self-loathing. Is he really ready to stoop that low?

“Oh, I got it! You’ll call him Bran!”

Patrick groans and buries his face in his hands. “Seriously dude, what’s with you and this weird obsession? I mean, of all the Game of Thrones characters-“

“Dude, shut up! Bran is awesome! He has the sight and he can manipulate time and control-“

“He’s the reason why Hodor-“

Patrick doesn’t get to finish that sentence because he gets hit upside the head. “Ouch! You asshole!”

Tyler just shrugs. “You know what that was for. Anyway, we can start with these and see what happens OK?”

Patrick nods and licks his lips nervously. “I mean- I guess.”

“Good.” Tyler says, sounding appeased. “Now can we get the hell out of here because I’m starving?”

“Yeah, sure. Maybe- maybe we can pick up Jonny. Now that you’re here he might give himself an hour off for lunch.”

“Of course he will! Your husband loves me!” Tyler deadpans.

He’s not wrong. They had a rocky start but they had become good friends along the years. Patrick’s still not sure if he’s supposed to be delighted or horrified.

 

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

 

Jonathan Toews is really trying to pitch his products, not only for the sales but mostly because he believes in them himself. At 28, 6’ 22’’ and 201 lb you’d think he’d manage to be quite intimidating by sight alone, but according to his friends it’s his dark eyes that do it and the monotone way they accuse him of speaking with. So, he’s working with whatever he can to use it to his advantage.

 “Of course it’s superior, David? Haven’t you been listening?” He’s getting tired of explaining the same thing over and over again. “The beans are washed with pure spring water and sun-dried, then craft-roasted by hand. It’s as pure as coffee can get. It has less than 2% caffeine and the taste is buttery and chocolate-y without actually being bitter. Just call them back, damn it.”

He hangs up the phone and buzzes Corey in. It’s really ironic following that conversation but some things are more important than his embarrassment. Thankfully, he has colleagues he can trust not to babble their mouths around. Corey Crawford is a man of few words, unless you get him drunk and since they barely have time to even breathe these days, Jonny assumes he’s safe.

“Hey, Jon. What do you need?”

Jonny flushes a bit but hands Corey some cash anyway. “Can you go buy me a couple Nescafe Clasico jars?”

Corey raises his brow at him questioningly. “Nescafe? Really?”

Jonny is almost certain Corey isn’t judging him, he’s probably just surprised. “Yeah... I... Patrick loves that stuff. You know I-“he sighs “You can’t win them all, can you?”

Corey just smiles warmly and nods mutely. He turns his back to leave.

“Just- Can you go to that store three blocks down? They know who you are next door and I don’t want them to think-“

“Don’t worry about it, boss. No one will know. It’ll be our deep, dark secret.” Corey chuckles and his brown eyes sparkle with mirth.

Jonny is struggling to find a good comeback but doesn’t get the chance because Corey flees and the phone starts ringing again.

“Toews speaking. Oh, hey buddy. What happened with your guy in Columbus? Is he interested?”

“Hey, babe.” Jonny hears the voice but his back is turned to the door. Patrick being in his office eases off some of the tension he didn’t know he was feeling.

He wants to get up and greet him properly but Saad is relating the conversation he had with the chemist so he just shoots a quick hello. “Hey, Pat. Take a seat. I’ll be right with you.”

If he were to turn around that moment he’d catch Patrick’s smile fade.

“Of course there is going to be a demand. I already spoke with your husband. He says there’s an opening in the New York market as well. Don’t you guys talk to each other? No wonder Leddy is grumpier than usual. Anyway, call them back. Get them in touch with him. Yeah, OK get back to me as soon as you know.”

Jonny hangs up the phone and turns to see Patrick motioning towards him with his head. He opens his mouth to question it when he catches sight of the man next to his husband.

“Well, well, well... Look what the cat dragged in! Long time no see, Tyler!” He stands up and goes right for a hug.

“Good to see you, Jon.” Tyler says as he hugs back, though it does sound a bit clipped.

He must be exhausted, Jonny figures. He takes a good look at his face. “How are you, Tyler? Is everything working out for you in Texas?”

Tyler shrugs. “I’ve got no complaints. It’s a bit different but I’ve gotten used to it by now. You look like you’re doing well yourself.”

He motions around the office and Jonny can’t help but preen like a peacock. “We’re still a small company, but yeah, business has really taken off. We’re trying to expand and we might have just caught a break in that. We’ll see.”

Tyler takes the place in, like he’s trying to assess and determine if his words are true. Jonny doesn’t know if he should take offense at that.

“What’s that?” Tyler asks, gesturing at the picture on the wall.

Jonny can feel his ears burn. “It’s... you know. It’s the plant.” He goes and stands next to the picture trying to hide his flushed cheeks. “I mean... this part.” He gestures at half the front building.

“What about the rest?” Tyler asks, clearly amused.

“Well, it’s for... show I guess?” He replies, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“That’s his dream.” Patrick chimes in. “It’s the way it’ll look when it’s finished.”

Jonny can’t help the fond smile that is currently plastered all over his face. Patrick says it with such conviction like he has no doubt that Jonny will get there. “Future plans and all that.” He says dismissively.

“It looks really nice.” Tyler offers.

“Jon, I need to talk to you about some bills of exchange-“Marian dashes in the office but cuts himself off when he sees people around. “Oh, hello. Patrick, how are you?” He offers his hand to Patrick and they exchange a handshake.

Jonny intervenes because their polite chatter can take up a lot more time than they can afford to spend. “Have you filled the IRS forms yet?”

Marian looks baffled. “The IRS forms? That’s two weeks away.”

“We can’t leave it to the last minute, Hossa. We’re already in the extended deadline. Go start on it and I’ll be there in a sec. The last thing we need is to be fined.”

Marian leaves and only then does Jonny notice Patrick’s expression. He looks so hurt that Jonny’s stomach knots.

“Why-“Patrick’s voice is pitched and clears his throat before he continues. Jonny has a bad feeling about this. “Why is Marian doing that? I thought- I always do the-“

“You’re so busy with your own work, baby,” Jonny tries to explain, “I didn’t want to add to your load. It’s just a few forms, he can handle it.”

Patrick doesn’t seem placated. “This is my job as well. More than that even. Do you not want me to- Are you trying to-“

“No, no baby. No one is trying to replace you.” Jonny rushes to clear things up. “I just didn’t want to burden you with it. He’ll just fill in some forms. We’ll hand everything back to you when we’re done, I promise.”

His husband doesn’t look at him and Jonny’s heart is filled with dread for a few minutes, but Patrick finally nods.

Jonny thinks they’ll be OK. Patrick knows that all this is as much his as it is Jonny’s.  Reassured, he turns to Tyler. “It’s really good to have you here Tyler but unfortunately I have a lot to do so I’ll catch up with you later, alright?”

“So, you’re not coming with us then?” Patrick asks. “It’s almost two. I thought we could grab lunch.”

He’s trying really hard to hide his disappointment but Jonny sees it anyway and he feels awful. “I’m sorry, baby.” He tugs Patrick close and leaves a soft peck on his lips.

In that moment, he finds himself wanting more of Patrick’s taste. He doesn’t know why. It’s not like they never kiss. For some reason though, it seems both familiar and foreign. Jonny frowns at this absurd notion.

“Can’t you just take an hour off? Tyler’s here and we haven’t had lunch together in so long.” Patrick insists.

“I really, can’t Pat. Hossa’s expecting me.”

“You heard him, Jon. You have ten days. I can probably take the damn forms home and have it ready for you by tonight.”

Patrick is getting frustrated with him but instead of making him feel bad again it’s just making him angry. “Here we go again! No, we can’t really put it off, Pat. We have a million other things to do and I’m expecting a call back from Saad. Things are hectic right now, you know that. I just don’t have time to waste. “

“Oh, so having lunch with your husband is a waste of time, is it? Glad to know that’s what I’ve been reduced to.” Patrick doesn’t pout but the blue in his eyes is turning cold.

“Oh, come on! You know I didn’t mean it like that. Why do you always have to twist my words around?”

“Twist your words around? You barely even talk to me anymore. I don’t hear enough words to twist them.”

Jonny can’t really believe what he’s hearing. He doesn’t know why all of a sudden his husband is turning into a brat. “Seriously? You’re going to -- I’m doing the best I can, Patrick. I’m sorry that’s not enough for you.”

He walks away trying to put space and distance between them. He is stressed with work and Patrick probably just has a bad case of waking up on the wrong side of the bed day. They’re gonna be fine.

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

Patrick huffs and puffs in exasperation. “Did you see?” He gestures towards Jonny’s way unnecessarily.

Tyler nods. “I did. Multiple times before actually. It’s nothing new.”

“That’s not really comforting at all, Segs.” Patrick whines.

Tyler pats his back. “I know. He needs a wakeup call.” He chuckles to himself. “Call! Get it?”

Patrick groans. “Yeah, yeah, very clever. A total genius, you are!”

“Stop being a nerd and get on with the plan. Step One. The phone’s right there. I’ll go pretend I’m looking around so you can be alone. When you hear him coming do as I said, OK?”

Patrick scrunches his nose. “The office phone? Isn’t that like, dumb? I have a cell phone, you know.”

“Yeah, but those calls stay on record.” The ‘duh’ is heavily implied but Patrick can see his point. He wouldn’t want there to be evidence if he’d be doing it for real.

He shrugs in defeat. “What do I have to lose, right?”

Tyler beams. “That’s my boy!”

As soon as Tyler leaves Jonny’s office, Patrick takes his place next to the phone. His hands are shaking and there’s this voice inside his head that screams at him to let it go. He is a mature adult after all; he shouldn’t resort to these kinds of methods to reclaim his husband’s attention.

On the other hand, and in all honesty, he used to love when Jonny not very subtly claimed proprietary rights over him. He was never controlling, more like adorably clingy, which was what made all the difference; a constant reminder that Patrick was wanted and loved, even needed.

He misses that feeling, so much so that it overpowers everything else. It’s like all his senses are focused on that void inside him, all those spaces that Jonny used to occupy.

Tyler’s idle chatter in the distance about retail and wholesale is like a white noise and if it were not for his innate ability to sense Jonny’s presence he would have missed his chance.

He doesn’t even have enough time to breathe, let alone think. He picks up the phone and pretends to dial just as Jonny is walking through the door.

He slams the phone down, harsher than he indented and he doesn’t even have to pretend being unnerved.

“Who were you calling?” Jonny asks casually.

Patrick plays dumb. He knows very well how to sell that. He had been doing it half his life. “Me?”

“Weren’t you just on the phone?”

“No... I mean, I- Just...”

Jonny frowns. “What are you jabbering away for?”

“I don’t!” Patrick protests. “What are you implying? That I hung up as soon as you came in?” OK, that was not subtle at all.

“I don’t have to, Patrick. I just saw you do it.” His voice is so even, just stating a fact. Not an ounce of anger or doubt, let alone suspicion.

“Next you’re gonna accuse me of making a secret call!” Patrick says indignantly.

“Jesus Christ, Pat. No. Where did that even come from?”

“Hey, guys, what’s wrong?” Tyler bursts in right on queue. Patrick suspects he had been waiting outside all along for the right moment.

“Nothing.” Jonny replies before Patrick has a chance to speak. “He was on the phone and because I asked who he was talking to he thought I was-“

“That you were getting suspicious of him?” Tyler offers.

“Yeah. Crazy, right? I mean, I still have a lot of flaws to work on but being irrationally jealous isn’t one of them anymore.”

Tyler makes the same disbelieving sound as when Patrick told him about Jonny’s new ways. “You? For real?”

Jonny has the decency to blush because he used to be really bad and Tyler had firsthand experience. He’s not quite certain that he still doesn’t intimidate Ty a little. “‘Been working on my issues. I’m trying to be better. Being a sure thing helps a lot.”

Patrick gasps and Jonny rushes to clarify his meaning. “Us, babe. We’re solid, yeah? I trust you and I have faith in us and that’s what’s important, really.”

“I don’t think it’s all that simple.” Tyler chimes in. “Sure, trust is fundamental but can’t just solely rely on it.”

“We’re it for each other.” Jonny says vehemently. “Why complicate our lives with doubt and create unnecessary friction?”

“Every relationship is like a living organism, Jonny.” Patrick mumbles. “If you don’t feed it enough, it’s going to perish.”

“Did you read that on National Geographic, you giant dork?” Tyler jokes, trying to defuse the situation.

Patrick realises that he had gone off plan and his friend is trying to get him back on track. “Oh, fuck off!”

“Well, I’d like to. That’s why I need you to take me to ‘Steeger’s’. There was this guy on the plane that said it’s the best club he’s ever been to.” Tyler encourages Patrick to take over by tilting his head in Pat’s direction.

Patrick can’t help but be sceptical. He thinks it’s too much too soon and Jonny might realise what they’re trying to do but he really has neither the time nor the choice to ignore Tyler’s pass. He lets a high-pitched noise out that’s enough to distract Jonny, who has been furiously searching through his desk drawers for something. “Oh, Ty, it’s so awesome.” He fakes enthusiasm “You must see it, really. It’s enormous and high end, not tacky at all. Even the back rooms are classy. And man, the energy. It has this... this vibe.”

“How do you know that, babe? It’s been a while since we were in Boystown.”

Patrick snorts. “Try months!”

“Then how can you be sure? Maybe it’s just all hype, jump on the bandwagon and all.”

“I – I didn’t say I was sure, did I?” Patrick croaks.

“Well, to be honest,” Tyler intervenes “you did sound pretty certain; like you’ve actually been there.”

“I- Well, I’ve never-“He doesn’t try hard enough to stumble over his words. He might have to kill Seguin if this backfires though.

“Oh, didn’t Brandon and Andrew tell us about it?” Jonny asks casually and then turns to Tyler to explain. “They’re the couple who lives above us.”

Patrick bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from cursing out in frustration. His husband is the worst! “Yeah, I mean, I guess.”

“No, no, definitely. Don’t you remember, babe? Andrew was talking our ears off over coffee. Shit! Coffee! I need to call Davie, back.” Jonny frantically reaches for the phone.

Patrick lays his head on Tyler’s shoulder with a sigh. “I told you it wouldn’t work.” He whispers.

Tyler pets his hair. “The name. Call him by it.”

Corey comes in just as Jonny hangs up the phone. He exchanges pleasantries with Patrick and leaves as soon as he hands Jonny the bag.

“Here you go, babe. Take this home with you?” Jonny offers.

“What is it?”

“It’s the coffee you like. I would have brought it myself but since you’re here...”

He does the sweetest things out of the blue that throw Patrick off balance. “You’re not coming then?” It’s softer this time, not accusatory at all.

“Still can’t. I’m sorry.” He does sound apologetic and Patrick is too moved by the gesture to stay bitter. “I’ll see you guys later.”

“Don’t worry about us. I’m sure we’ll find a way to entertain ourselves without you. You’re not that much fun anyway.” Tyler teases.

“Excuse me? I’m lots of fun.” Jonny takes offense in the weirdest shit, really.

“Sure, sure, bye Mr. Fun” Tyler slaps him in the back affectionately.

Patrick stands on his tiptoes to leave a quick kiss. “Bye, Bran.”

“What did you just call me?” Jonny questions.

Patrick bites his bottom lip. “Fun?”

Jonny shakes his head. “Bran. You called me, Bran.”

“No, I- I said bye Mr. Fun.” He gestures towards Tyler “You know, like Segs.”

Tyler’s eyes are sparkling when he says, “You said Bran, Patrick. I heard it, too.”

Jonny chuckles. “Slip of the tongue, babe. Happens all the time. It’s no big deal.” He reassures. He quickly kisses Pat on the cheek. “Got to go. See you guys back home.”

Tyler tries very hard not to facepalm but fails. He just controls himself enough for Jonny to leave the office. “Jesus Christ! I thought you were exaggerating. But this- this is ridiculous.”

Patrick, on his end, just feels his heart sink.

“Hey, hey.” Tyler brings him in for a hug and while Patrick loves it he simultaneously hates the fact that everyone can read him that well these days except his husband. “Everything’s going to be alright. I’m here now. I’ve got your back.”

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

Artem Anisimov can’t seem to stop pacing. He’s got a million things to do but he’s so distracted he can’t seem to focus even on the easiest task. In addition to always worrying about his boyfriend, partner really because he’s 28 and not a teenager, he now has to shoulder a heavy guilt as well.

Working for Patrick has been nothing but a blessing. When he first arrived in the US from Russia, he was an intracompany transferee with an L temporary work visa. He thought it was his big break at the time, what he needed to create a life with his partner someplace where it’d be a lot safer than back home.

He almost had all his hopes and dreams crushed when the staff reduction started and he was one of the very first to go. He didn’t understand why the cuts had to come from the accounting department since he worked the numbers himself and they were solid. Somewhere between unloading his troubles to the bartender and drowning his sorrows in vodka Patrick Kane came into his life like a gift from God.

Patrick offered him a job, sponsored his H1B visa, filled all petitions and forms and even paid him a month’s salary in advance, even though he still wasn’t that established himself yet, just so Artem could keep his apartment. Even before becoming his friend, Patrick had already been Artem’s saviour.

That’s why he’s all twisted up in knots; because in order to help his partner he had to betray Patrick’s trust and it’s slowly killing him inside.

The phone rings and every nerve in his body tenses. He answers it with trembling hands. “Hello?”

As soon as he hears the three little whistles his entire being goes slack. “ _Luchik, where have you been? I’ve been worried sick.”_

Artemi Panarin, his partner, chuckles sweetly. He can picture the laugh lines on his face perfectly. “ _I told you not to, miliy. When are you gonna start listening to me_?”

“ _Probably never_.” He teases.

Artemi laughs again, a deep rumbling sound that makes Artem’s heart flutter. “ _I’m a big boy, I can take care of myself, you know._ ”

Artem wants to tease him like he always does, because his partner is nearly 5 inches shorter than him and his babyface makes him look even younger than his twenty five years but he just nods, certain Artemi wouldn’t be in the mood for it at this time.

He nods continuously until he realises it’s useless since his partner can’t even see him. “ _I know_.” He sighs. “ _That doesn’t make it easier._ ”He understands that he makes it more difficult for the both of them so he doesn’t give Artemi a chance to object. “ _So, what happened? Did you get that job with Sasha?”_

 _“No, I didn’t.”_ He sounds as dejected as Artem feels. “ _I did get one with Vlad but it starts_ _on Friday.”_

_“Shit! What are we gonna do? Maybe I should ask Patrick for an advance again.”_

_“NO.”_ Artemi practically screams at him. “ _I already feel bad enough, OK? I’ve been sucking you dry as it is. You need to think of yourself as well_.”

Artem sighs heavily. “ _You are more important to me than money, you know that. We had this conversation before. What’s mine is yours_.”

 “ _Ya tebya lyublyu_.” Everytime Artemi says he loves him is always soft and affectionate but this time it holds some kind of desperation as well. “ _But I can’t let you do that. You’re in too deep already and we need to fix it, not make it worse_.”

“ _Ya tozhe tebya lyublyu. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, luchik._ ” It actually terrifies him, the lengths he would go for this man.

“ _I’d do the same for you_.” Artem already knows but hearing him say it makes his heart burst with affection. “ _I’ll have the money by Friday afternoon and I’ll get the watch back, I promise_.”

“ _Fine but if you can’t, I’m asking him. I need to return it before he realises it’s missing_.”

“ _Sure, because asking him for more money to get back the watch you stole from him makes everything better, right?”_ Artemi’s voice oozes sarcasm. It makes his already raspy voice even deeper. If Artem wasn’t filled with guilt he’d be so turned on.

“ _Borrowed!_ ” he corrects. “ _I borrowed it. I didn’t steal it.”_

“ _I know. And I hate the fact that you had to. That fucking lawyer just couldn’t wait the fucking asshole_.” He’s fuming and Artem can’t really blame him.

“ _We’ve talked about this, Artemi._ ” He hates that he uses his name to chastise him as if he were a child but they keep running into circles with this argument. “ _He can get you legal papers and you won’t have to look over your shoulder anymore._ ”

“ _Vasily could get them to me in less than a week if you only_ -“

“ _Fuck no. You’re not getting involved with the mafiya_.”

He doesn’t have to see Artemi to know he’s miffed. “ _It’s not like I’m going to join them. It’s just a couple of boxing matches._ “

“ _They’ll never let you get away with only that and you know it_.”

“ _I think you’ve seen one too many American mob movies, miliy_.” His tone is very sugary but Artem can sense the mockery nonetheless.

“ _Is that what you really want to do?_ ” Artem asks harshly. “ _Swap the worry of the immigration officers to that of the bureau of organised crime? And where do I fit in that plan, Panarin? Do you think I can walk around holding your hand amongst those people? Isn’t that the reason we left home in the first place?”_

There’s no reply from the other end and he’s getting a bit worried. He never once thought it’d be possible to happen but maybe this is what will break them apart in the end.

“ _I- I’m sorry_.” Artemi finally says and he does sound sincere in his apology. “ _You know I don’t- It’s -- It’s just hard, you know?_ ”

“ _I know, luchik, I know. But we’ll get through this too, alright? You and me.”_

 _“Yes, you and me, miliy. You and me.”_ The way he says it makes something in Artem settle. Maybe the world will fall apart but even if that happens they’ll just go down together.

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

Jonny has a million things to finish and there are not enough hours in a day to allow him to do them. It’s driving him crazy, this constant battle against time. As if that isn’t enough, he had to go and get himself lost in a part of town that’s unfamiliar to him.

He’s frantically checking Google maps on his phone and if Patrick were with him he’d comment badly on his insistence to not ask for directions. It’s not a pride thing, Jonny swears. It’s mostly a determination one. Thinking of what Patrick would have done in a situation like this calms him enough to a point that he can type actual words on his phone and not gibberish that get him nowhere.

He pays no attention to where he’s going so he’s not that surprised that he bumps into someone for the third time since he got stranded in these parts.

“Sorry.” He fires a quick apology.

“Jon?” The voice is familiar, the shock and hesitation are not.

Jonny looks up and sure enough Duncan is there. His hair is a mess, darker than usual and unwashed, the slight curls in the back stuck to his neck, he has at least a week’s worth of beard, his blue eyes are tired and vacant, and he seems nothing like his usual self.

“Hey, buddy.” Jonny greets. “How have you been?”

Duncan shrugs his shoulders. “As well as can be expected, you know?”

Jonny frowns. “Did something happen?”

Duncan lifts his hand to rub at his beard, looking at Jonny in a funny way.

“Didn’t you talk to Brent?” Duncan asks instead of giving him some kind of an answer.

“I- Last week, I think? Or maybe the week before that. Things have been kind of hectic. He said you were getting ready to launch the new cereal.”

“Ah, I see. - yeah, that’s still a work in progress.”

Duncan was always a little cryptic but something about his attitude starts to worry Jonny. “Is everything all right?” he asks again while getting a glimpse of where Duncan has just come from “and what are you doing in this place in the middle of the day?”

It sounds more judgemental than he intended but realises it only when he notices the change in Duncan’s posture. “What? Can’t a man watch a movie in something other than a multiplex?”

Jonny raises his hands in defence. “No, man, I just thought you’d be too busy with work to take an afternoon off that’s all.”

“Yeah, well I needed a break. Look, Jon, it was good to see you and all but I have to go.” Jonny doesn’t know why Duncan’s clear dismissal bothers him this much.

“Oh, sure. I’m kind of in a hurry anyway. Let’s get together one of these days, yeah? It’s been too long since we hung out. Tell Brent I’ll give him a call soon.”

“Yeah, I don’t-“Duncan rubs the back of his neck, a clear sign of nervousness. “I guess you’re gonna find out sooner or later so—Seabrook and I are getting a divorce.”

“What?” Jonny squeals, he actually honest-to-God squeals and he almost drops his phone.

“I’ve really got to go,” Duncan brushes it off like he didn’t just drop a bomb on him “Call your friend or whatever if you like.”

The way he stresses the words ‘your friend’ makes Jonny’s blood turn to ice. “You are my friend too, Duncs.”

Duncan snorts. “Sure, yeah.” He just turns to leave but Jonny catches him by the arm at the last minute. “Look, you were his friend first; you were his best man at our wedding- I know how this goes, OK?”

“This is bullshit.” He takes a quick glance at his watch. “I don’t have that much time but there’s a coffee shop right there and we’re going to grab a cup and you’re going to talk to me. Because I _am_ your friend.”

Duncan opens his mouth probably to protest but Jonny doesn’t let him. “This is non-negotiable.”

He doesn’t let go of Duncan’s arm but he takes the lead and drags him towards the coffee shop. As soon as they sit the waiter comes to take their orders.

They stay silent for a while. Jonny is on edge mostly because he has no idea what the hell could have happened to drive those two to split but another part of him can’t stop thinking of the clock ticking and the amount of things he still has to do.

“So,” he tries to breach the subject “you’re-“

Duncan nods.

“Is it- final? I mean, I’m sure whatever it is, you guys can work it out - you’re Duncs and Seabs. You can’t -- You can’t just give up and-“

“I didn’t.” Duncan says sharply. “Your friend did.”

“Brent asked for a divorce?” It would explain the miserable state Duncan is in but Brent would have told him, they would have talked about it, he is certain of that. Maybe that missed call he never got around to returning...

Duncan shakes his head. “No, but he was the one cheating.”

“What?” It comes out like a screech this time. “Are you- I mean, seriously?”

“I caught him in his practice with his hands under her skirt.”

“I- I mean, he- Are you really sure, Duncs? He is a physical therapist it’s kind of in his job description.” He doesn’t really know what he’s saying. Patrick would have been so much better at this, he thinks.

“A physical therapist yes, not a gynaecologist. Last time I checked it doesn’t require forgoing your underwear.”

The waiter comes with their order and it gives Jonny a moment to collect himself. He can’t believe that Brent would do that. To Duncan of all people.

“I just-“Duncan starts but pauses “I never- I thought we were a sure thing.”

That catches Jonny as he is trying to sip a bit of his water and he ends up spitting it all over the table. Something about that phrase makes his skin crawl.

“Are you alright?” Duncan sounds concerned and that makes Jonny even more uneasy.

“Yeah, just, I was saying the same thing to a friend this morning about me and Pat.”

“You guys are different. Pat would never- He’s solid. But it’s- I should have known, you know? The signs were there but I never wanted to believe that-“

“Signs? What signs? How long has this been going on?” He can’t help but feel a sting of betrayal as well. Brent had always been a big brother to him; he’d expect to hear something this serious from him personally.

Duncan shrugs. “I don’t know when it started. You see, I’ve been too busy with the cereal and all and- But I should have gotten a clue. I mean when you see your husband-“

“ _Your_ husband you mean.” Jonny blurts and as soon as the words leave his mouth he feels like shit but for some reason he had to clarify it. “To be precise.”

“Yeah, mine, whatever. When you see him making a call and when he notices you he hangs up, then when you ask him about it he’s mumbling gibberish at you, what does it mean Jon?”

“What does it mean, Duns?” Jonny can feel his blood run cold and the vein in his forehead pop.

“It means that the call was anything but innocent.” Duncan answers. “Can I have a glass of water?” He offhandedly asks the waiter.

“Anything but innocent- Are you sure? Maybe-“

“There’s not maybe about it. What about when instead of calling your name he says another one?”

Jonny feels his throat drying up. “Another one?”

“Yeah, like when you’re saying goodbye and instead of him saying goodbye Duncs, he says goodbye-“

“Bran” Jonny croaks.

“Bran? Why Bran?” Duncan asks puzzled.

“Nevermind. Go on.”

“No, Dani. He called me Dani. And it all makes sense now, you know? I didn’t think anything of it. It’s not like he spelled it out but- With a woman, Jon. How do you compete with that?” He sounds so dejected and Jonny knows it’s not the common fear a gay man has when involved with a bisexual as Dunc is bi himself. It’s much more serious than that.

It’s the same argument they had over and over again, ever since the clock that was ticking towards Seabs’ thirtieth birthday finally rang; Children.

Brent had his own practice, an office attached to their house, and flexible hours so he didn’t agree with Duncan telling him they were both too busy to focus on raising a baby.

Jonny sided with Duncan on that one. Patrick hadn’t said anything to him directly but Jonny had seen his face fall. There hasn’t been a mention of babies between then since then.

The waiter leaves the glass on the table and Duncan reaches for it but Jonny beats him to it. “But I asked for it.”

“Yeah, but I’m the one who needs it now.” Jonny fumbles with his shirt collar. Even though he had it unbuttoned at the top it’s starting to feel like it’s suffocating him. He asks the waiter for another glass before he drinks the one he’s currently holding.

“Can I get an aspirin as well?” Duncan adds.

“Headache, eh?” Jonny more states than asks.

Duncan nods.

Unconsciously Jonny touches his own forehead. “Here, right?”

Duncan nods again. “Whatever you have you have it right here, eh?” Jonny says and he can’t help but get a vision of horns; only he doesn’t see them on Duncan’s head but his own. He always made fun of the images of cuckolds’ portrayals but they don’t seem amusing anymore.

“One day,” Duncan starts speaking again and that makes Jonny pay attention “he says: ‘Babe, I think I’m gonna start going on little jaunts; you know, maybe Sundays since you always work and all.”

“At least we have none of that.” Jonny mutters under his breath. Maybe he’s just being paranoid and letting Duncan influence him. It could be just a giant coincidence. “So what happened? Did he go?” He asks his friend out loud.

Duncan shrugs. “How am I supposed to know? He said he did. He had all these stories, you know? With all the things he and his buddy did.”

Jonny can feel the sweat at the back of his neck, trickling down. “There’s... there’s a buddy?”

Duncan huffs and throws his hands in the air. “Of course there is! There’s always a friend. They need the alibi, you know? What better one than Niklas. We’ve known him forever.”

The hurt is evident, in his eyes, in the way his whole upper body slumps forward like he can’t bear a huge weight. “I was such a fool. I was actually relieved, can you believe it? I was happy he seemed happier. We even stopped fighting. Up until then, he was complaining about how I didn’t pay him enough attention or why did we even need a house that big since it was always empty anyway. I used to feel like shit, man, like I was letting him down. Then everything changed and I thought we got through the rough patch.”

There’s a thudding inside Jonny’s head, making him think it’s a moment away from exploding. This cannot be happening, not to him too.

The waiter comes with the aspirin and Jonny grabs it before the poor guy has a chance to put it down.

“I was the one who asked for it.” Duncan protests.

“Yeah, but now I’m the one who needs it.” He rubs at his neck awkwardly, trying hard to come to terms with the facts in front of him. “Duncs... I- the signs. I’ve got the signs, too.”

Duncan straightens and looks up at him, a startled expression on his face. “What signs?”

“The phone call, the friend, the... the name. Bran, Duncs, he called me Bran.” Jonny is on the verge of tears and he never, never cries.

Duncan stands there shell shocked.

They stare at each other, not knowing what to say. How is this their life?

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

Patrick watches Tyler and Artem having a weird, animated conversation with their mouths full and catches himself smiling contently in what is perhaps the first time in weeks. He spaces out from time to time but he’s mostly feeling better with himself.

He’s not that preoccupied though as to miss the way Tyler often stares at his phone longingly and he makes a mental note to ask his friend about it at a later point. He has his suspicions but he doesn’t dwell on them because he doesn’t want to spoil the mood.

All three of them jump simultaneously at the crashing sound. Tyler seems the most startled. “What the hell was that?”

“Oh, that’s just Brandon and Andrew.”

“The couple Jon was talking about?”

“Yeah. They’re kind of like the opposite of us.”

Tyler frowns just as another breaking sound comes through. “What do you mean?”

“Basically, too much passion and morbid jealousy.”

The string of curses is very audible and even though Patrick is very relaxed about profanity this still makes him uncomfortable. He doesn’t have to pay close attention to know what the argument is about. It’s pretty much the same as always. Andrew accusing Brandon of cheating, or having the intention to while his husband tries to talk some sense into him; calm him down enough so as not break their entire china collection in his hissy fit.

Patrick has become really close with both of them and he seems to be having some calming effect on Andrew so he usually works as a buffer between them. He sighs and picks up the phone.

Andrew answers on the third ring. “Hello?” his voice is timid because he always has the sense to feel embarrassed when things get really out of hand. Deep down he knows he’s being unreasonable; he just has difficulty controlling his temper.

“Hey, Andrew, it’s Pat. Is everything all right?”

“Um...yeah, just...I was unloading the dishwasher and a couple of plates slipped right out of my hands.”

Patrick pretends to buy the lie. “Did you get them out while they were still hot again?”

“I- Um, yeah.” Andrew replies sheepishly.

“Be more careful next time, kid, ok? Anyway, are you guys busy? My friend Tyler came from Texas and I thought maybe you wanted to come down to have coffee with us.”

“Oh, that was today? I totally forgot. Sure, we’ll be down in a minute.”

Patrick goes to hang up the phone but stays on it since he doesn’t hear the beeping tone. For half a second he expects Andrew to add something but all he hears is a muffled question.

“ _Don’t you find it weird that Patrick invites us this often at his for coffee?_ ”

“ _Are you out of your fucking mind? You’re gonna start suspecting Patrick, too_?”

Patrick shakes his head and disconnects the call. He doesn’t know if he wants to direct his exasperation to the crazy that is Andrew Shaw or to his own husband who is on the other end of the jealousy scale.

Deep inside he knows that Andrew’s behaviour makes for an unhealthy relationship, he also fears that one day Brandon will have enough and walk out on him but on the surface, in moments of weakness he wishes Jonny was that interested in him still, maybe just in a less psychotic level.

The doorbell rings and Artem answers. Brandon stops to greet him and Andrew all but pushes him inside and away from him, which is not an easy fit when his husband is 6’2’’ and 220lb of pure muscle.

Patrick catches Artem rolling his eyes and can’t help but smile. He also notices the very well situated hickey on Brandon’s neck, left there like a brand, Andrew’s way of marking his territory. For a minute his heart sinks. Most of the times, Brandon and Andrew’s fights end with them in bed. Their fights on the other hand, happen mostly over the phone with Jonny barely even home anymore, and result in one of them hanging up.

Patrick can’t remember the last time Jonny had left a mark on him. In all actuality, he barely remembers the last time they even had plain old vanilla sex. Jonny is either too tired or Patrick is already asleep when he returns home.

Fortunately the couple greeting him interrupts his dive into self pity.

Tyler reaches his side and makes the introductions. Andrew shakes his hand and spits out a ‘nice to meet you’ but by the way his eyes narrow Patrick knows he doesn’t really mean it. Brandon is way more open and friendly as always.

Like a good host, Patrick guides them in the living room. By order of entering the room Tyler tries to take a seat next to Brandon but Andrew unsubtly weasels himself between them making everyone feel a bit uncomfortable.

Clearing his throat, Brandon speaks first. “So, Mr. Seguin-”

Tyler gives him a lopsided smile. “Call me, Tyler,” he says glancing at Andrew with the corner of his eye “I insist.”

Andrew doesn’t speak but places his hand possessively on Brandon’s thigh.

“Tyler-“Brandon continues “you’re from Texas?”

“Oh, God no. I’m _Canadian_.” He says it with such pride, like nothing Patrick has heard before except maybe from Jonny.

“Andrew is Canadian as well,” Brandon offers and that makes his husband stare at him adoringly “from Belleville.”

“Tyler’s from Brampton originally but he’s been in the US since he was a teenager.” Patrick chimes in.

“Yeah, we moved a lot when I was younger that’s how I met this one,” he gestures towards Patrick.

“And he kept on moving.” Patrick adds pouting at his friend.

While they carry on with their conversation Andrew just stares at Tyler, taking in the way the fabric of his t-shirt stretches every time he moves his arms. Patrick doesn’t know if it’s unconsciously but Andrew keeps rocking back and forth, subsequently blocking Brandon’s view of Tyler.

“What brings you to Chicago this time of year, then?” Brandon continues the pleasant conversation “I don’t suppose it’s our great weather.”

Tyler smiles brightly and that seems to put Andrew on edge. “I needed a change of scenery; Dallas was becoming too small to contain me.” He leers. 

Patrick bites the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from smirking as Andrew grits his teeth and straightens to hide Tyler from Brandon’s sight, definitely on purpose this time around,  which in itself is hilarious since Andrew is so small.

“I thought it was the second biggest city in Texas.” Brandon comments.

“The third actually but there’s too much of me to go around why limit myself?”  It’s not unusual for Tyler to brag but Patrick thinks this time he’s being provocative on purpose.

“Cut it out, Segs,” he intervenes.

Tyler pouts. “You’re rude. I’m trying to have a conversation with this nice gentleman.”

Andrew is now sitting so close to Brandon he all but straddles his lap, his whole face red and Patrick fears it’s the moment he snaps and punches Tyler; not that his friend wouldn’t deserve it, what with poking the bear and all. He’s mostly concerned about Andrew to be truthful. He suspects there’s a lot of hurt under all that anger and Tyler is just pouring salt in an open wound.

“Why don’t you just go see what’s taking Artem so long? Remind him he’s my assistant not my housekeeper; he doesn’t have to clean up after us.”

Just as he finishes his sentence Artem walks in, towel in hand wiping his palms. “You cooked and let me stay for lunch- again. It’s the least I can do.”

“Nonsense, if I didn’t have you here I’d go crazy. I’d probably start talking to the walls.”

“Jonny’s still working long hours?” Brandon asks.

“Yeah.”

“God, how do you stand it?” It’s the first thing Andrew has said since they came “I’d be going crazy all evening in the house alone.”

Patrick shrugs. “It’s not like I don’t socialise, I just- it’s not the same without him.”

“I have an idea.” Brandon says. “It’s a nice day, just a bit chilly. We can go out for coffee, show your friend around Chicago, what do you think?”

He looks at Andrew as he asks and though he hesitates he finally just shrugs. “Sure, why not?

“Great.” Patrick says and it comes out more enthusiastically than he intended. “Come on Cinderella, we’re taking you to the ball.” He teases Artem.

“Oh, no I- I already have plans.”

Patrick raises his brow sceptically. “Really?”

Artem flushes and nods.

“At least let us drive you home.”

“If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Not at all. We can meet the guys afterwards.” Patrick reassures.

“Why take two cars?” Brandon says. “Ours is big enough.”

“I was thinking maybe Tyler and I could catch a movie later. Jonny’s probably going to be home late again anyway.”

“Sure, of course. Shall we go?”

“I need to go upstairs and change.” Andrew says gesturing to himself and his thin-fabric clothes. “I wasn’t expecting to go out.”

“Sure, babe, we’ll wait for you.” Brandon says.

Andrew frowns. “You’re coming with me.”

“Why? I’m already dressed.”

“You need to wear a sweatshirt and grab your jacket.” Andrew’s tone doesn’t leave much room for arguing.

Brandon sighs and follows.

As soon as he hears the door close Tyler sags on the couch. “Unbelievable!”

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

Right as he is reaching for his jacket, Patrick hears the key in the lock and freezes. His heart is beating so fast with excitement and can’t help the wide smile that spreads across his face. “He’s home.” He tells Tyler in wonderment.

His friend stares back at him blankly but nothing can rein Patrick in. It’s not every day that Jonny comes back this early. He rushes towards the door, and like a schoolgirl at the night of the prom stops in front of the mirror to fix his hair.

Jonny catches him just as he fumbles with a few loose strands. Patrick smiles softly at him through the glass. “Hey.”

“Come on in, Duncs.” Jonny says instead of greeting him.

A dishevelled Duncan appears and Patrick is shocked at the state his friend is in. He hugs him nonetheless. “Hey, Duncs.”

“Tyler.” Jonny says curtly. Patrick hadn’t heard him joining them but his husband’s tone doesn’t sit quite right with him.

“Is everything alright?” he asks.

“Sure,” Jonny shrugs “why?”

Patrick hesitates. “I just- you sounded a bit steep.”

Jonny’s face is unreadable and it makes Patrick uneasy. “Nah, just... work trouble.”

“Hey, it’s OK. Don’t worry about me. I don’t take it personally.” Tyler chimes in.

Patrick suddenly remembers his manners and introduces his two friends. “Duncs, this is Tyler- Seguin. He just came today from Dallas. Tyler, meet Duncan Keith.”

“Tyler is his friend.” Jonny supplies in the same clipped tone that makes Duncan narrow his eyes. Patrick doesn’t understand what’s going on.

Ty extents his hand, offering a handshake and Patrick can’t help but notice the hesitation before Duncan finally shakes his hand. “OK, seriously you guys, is everything all right? I’m getting kind of worried here.”

“Duncs has an issue and I’m trying to make sure it doesn’t happen to me, too.” Jonny’s tone doesn’t leave much room for further questioning so Patrick turns to Duncan instead.

“You do look a bit sad, man.”

“Yeah, well, how do you expect me to be when-“

“Let’s not bother Patrick with business.” Jonny cuts him off. “He’s just having trouble with the new cereal, that’s all.”

“How’s Brent?” Patrick tries again.

Duncan snorts. “Brent’s fine. Never better. Why shouldn’t he be?” Jonny answers instead, quite harshly.

Patrick frowns. “Hey, can you like, chill? I was just asking a question. You don’t have to take your nerves out on me.”

He expects an apology that never comes. “Whatever. I’m gonna grab my jacket ‘cause we’re going out.” His previously good mood is totally ruined.

“Where are you going?” Jonny questions.

“Out for coffee with Brandon and Andrew. Then Tyler and I might catch a movie or something.” He refuses to change his plans when Jonny is being an irrational asshole.

“You and Tyler.” Jonny repeats.

“Yeah, it’s a nice day why stay in? Oh, and we were talking about day trips if the weather holds. You know, show Tyler around the area.” Patrick is excited about this idea. He gets to be a tourist all over again.

“Day trips.” Jonny sounds like a broken record repeating everything Pat says. “Like- jaunts.”

“I guess.” Patrick shrugs, “You’re the lexicon around here.”

“Hear that Duncs?” Jonny speaks slower than normal, enunciating his every word “Taking jaunts with his buddy.”

“You know what? You’re a bit of a dick today.” Patrick says and luckily he manages to turn his back before Jonny can see the smirk on his face.

He goes in the other room to find Tyler ready and waiting for him. He pounces on him and hugs him tightly. “Segsy, my boy, you’re a genius!” he whispers. He’d yell it from the rooftops if he could. “The day trips rattled him the most, I think. He tried to hide it but I caught the twitch in his jaw.”

Tyler chuckles. “And we’ve only just begun.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jonny plays nervously with the blinds in the home office. “Bran. He called me Bran. And they’re going to the movies alone. He also hung up. It all makes sense now.”

“He was trying to set up a date.” Duncan supplies.

“And I interrupted him.” Jonny fills in the missing pieces.

The landline rings and Jonny reluctantly answers. He’s not really in the mood for anything right now. Instead of a greeting he hears three loud whistles.

He covers the receiver with his palm. “I- whistling --“Duncan comes closer “in the phone – someone is whistling.”

“It’s some kind of a signal.” Duncan states.

“What do I do now?”

“Whistle back.” Duncan says and comes even closer to hear.

Jonny whistles back three times. “Miliy” the voice on the other end says, taking him by surprise.

“What?” he croaks. No one answers him but he can hear heavy breathing. “Who is this?”

“Sorry. Number wrong.” A man with a gravelly voice says and the next thing Jonny hears is the constant beeping of a disconnecting call.

Jonny is petrified, staring at the phone in his hand unable to believe what is happening. He raises his gaze only to meet Duncan’s that is filled with understanding and a hint of pity.

“I -- He --- He called him something, Duncs. He -- a pet name. He gave him a fucking pet name. What the -- This can’t be--“He’s at a loss for words. Up until now he had a tiny hope that this whole thing had been a big misunderstanding.

“Hey, calm down.” Duncan’s voice is soft, reassuring but nothing can ease the grip on his heart. “Breathe.”

“I – Calm down? Fuck calm! He’s ...” Hurt and anger are battling inside him. It takes him a split second to declare the winner. “I’m gonna kill him!”

He turns to leave, fury blinding him making everything hazy. He can barely feel the strong grip of Duncan’s hand on his arm. “Hey, cool it. What are you gonna do? Confront him? You’re just gonna make a fool of yourself.”

Jonny tries hard to concentrate and process what Duncan is telling him. “But-“

“No buts. If you go in there now, he’s gonna deny it and make you sound like a lunatic. What proof do you have?”

Jonny thinks of all the signs, the phone call minutes before. They are all circumstantial. Duncan is right, he doesn’t have hard evidence.

“Listen to me.” Duncan speaks again. “We need to keep a cool head and make a good plan.”

“But how?” He asks heavy hearted. The hurt resurfaces again, taking the wheel from anger.

His friend can either feel his pain or it’s evident in his face because Duncan pats him lightly in the back. “I’ve seen it in a movie once. Don’t worry. I’m gonna be his shadow. He won’t make a step without me following him. We’ll catch him right before the act.”

Jonny nods furiously. “Before, right?” He can’t help but stress.

A dark shadow appears in Duncan’s eyes and stays there as he also nods in understanding. “Yeah.” All the bitterness and pain he feels come through that one little word.

“I don’t -- I won’t -- I’m not as strong as you, Duncs. I won’t bear it if I have to see --“

“Count on me.” Duncan says. “I’ve got your back.”

Jonny is overwhelmed with feelings. He really doesn’t like it when that happens. He strives for an uncomplicated life but these things just keep sneaking up on him throwing him off balance.

The landline rings again and with that Jonny’s frustration resurfaces. “The fucker is persistent.” Not that he can really blame him. He was that eager once upon a time himself. Patrick does have that effect on people.

“What?” he snarls. Only the wanna-be-Jonny is not on the other end. “Oh, sorry, Dave, I thought it was --never mind.  No, I -- I left for the day. Headache.” He unconsciously rubs at his forehead “Whatever I have it’s probably up here. Nothing, don’t mind me. Is it? The battery probably died. Saad? I -- I can’t deal with that today, Dave. Talk to him yourself. Or don’t. I don’t care either way.”

He disconnects the call. Any other time he’d be horrified with himself and the way he spoke but his marriage is on the verge of crumbling he’s entitled to be a tad rude.

“They’re coming.” Duncan warns him. “Play it cool.”

Jonny steals a glance and he can feel the air being knocked out of him. Patrick has changed, now dressed in all black that accentuate his skin tone and contrast the light of his hair that for once is gel free.

“What do you think?” Tyler says chirpily and twirls. The tight denim shirt he has on hugs his muscles like a glove and it is unfair how good he makes it look. “Is Chi-town really ready for all this awesomness?”

Jonny scrunches his nose. “That’s not a word.”

“It so is, grandpa.” Tyler teases him and any other time Jonny wouldn’t let it affect him, he’s gotten better at accepting chirps, but now he just wants to jump at him and wring his neck.

“Tyler, play nice.” Patrick chastises him. It makes Jonny’s silly little heart flutter for a second until he remembers exactly how much his husband doesn’t care about him anymore.

“We’re coming with you.” He blurts.

“Really?” Patrick asks and Jonny can’t make out if he’s surprised or bummed. He doesn’t like either option. He’d have expected a lot more enthusiasm.  “I thought you and Duncs had work to do.”

“Nah, we’re giving ourselves the afternoon off. Isn’t that what you wanted?” It’s a jibe and it’s intentional.

Patrick’s reaction is yet again unexpected. “Sure.” he says.

Tyler sounds more jubilant. “My, my, isn’t it my lucky day! All these handsome men...”

Jonny scoffs. “Easy there, cowboy!”

“Should I call the guys to let them know?” Patrick asks him.

“Why? Is it a private outing?” Jonny bites out.

That seems to shake Patrick a bit. “No, I- I just thought maybe you’d like to change.”

“Am I not fashionable enough?” Maybe he’s being a bit more stinging than necessary because Duncan nudges him. “Come on, let’s go change.” He motions to him to follow. “I think we can find you something to wear.”

The last thing he wants is to dress up and spend his time faking ignorance when all he really cares about is the answer to how they end up like this and why.

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

This little outing of theirs is going differently than Patrick had expected. Tyler is glued to his phone, constantly texting. In any other case Patrick wouldn’t be bothered even though it is kind of rude. It’s the small wistful smiles that Tyler can’t hide that make Pat’s blood pressure rise. He’s almost certain who the recipient is and it’s enough to send him over the roof.

He’s a firm believer in second chances and that some people can change if they put their minds to it. His husband is proof enough, although some of Jonny’s changes weren’t for the better. He can’t help but doubt Tyler Brown though. He did not only break his friend’s heart but also his spirit by parading his girlfriend around, purposefully pouring salt in wide open wounds right after their break up.

That’s the grudge he holds and even though he is aware that his friend is not that kid anymore but a grown man he can’t help being protective because it might have taken Tyler a long time to stitch his heart back together but Patrick knows it does not hold strong when it comes to Brown. It’s still frail and brittle.

Duncan seems more closed off than ever. He barely participates in their conversations as if he was absent. While cleaned up and nicely so if Patrick might add, he still looks a little rough around the edges. Artem was equally mysterious when they left him at his place and somewhat distant.

The most shocking thing of all is his husband’s behaviour. Instead of looking put out by Andrew’s constant chatter he is actually engaging in conversation with him which on its own is weird enough. Combine that with the excessive, unnecessary touching that even has Brandon frowning and it’s nothing short of baffling.

“Isn’t this great?” Tyler asks slurping loudly at his espresso. “Better than wasting an afternoon buried in the office right Jon?”

Jonny plasters a half smile on his face. “Sure. Nice weather, great company,” he stresses the word great and follows it with a quick glance at Andrew’s side, “What’s not to like?”

Patrick bites the inside of his cheek trying hard not to scream. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t the plan.

“You’ve been working so hard lately,” Andrew comments “you deserve the break. And we did miss you.”

Patrick digs his nails in Tyler’s thigh trying to control himself. Brandon’s eyes meet his, silently searching for something. An answer perhaps but unfortunately Patrick doesn’t understand the question.

“Been too busy,” Jonny says and shrugs his shoulders in a short of ‘what can you do’ way.

“Yeah, your husband mentioned.” Brandon supplies and Patrick isn’t quite sure if there was indeed an emphasis on the husband part.

“Oh, really.” It’s more of a statement than a question. “Was he complaining again? He does that often these days.”

He knows that Jonny is trying to get a rise out of him and he tries very hard not to give in to his urges. “Absent husbands are good conversation starters.” Tyler says out of the blue, putting his phone on the table for the first time since they’ve arrived.

“I thought you weren’t married.” Andrew says tone clipped, still suspicious of him as it seems.

Tyler gives him a wolfish grin. “I’m not but those trying to get in my pants often are. Neglecting partners are a common excuse.”

There’s a shift in the mood. Andrew’s jaw drops in shock, Brandon shifts nervously and Jonny freezes in place. Patrick wants to throttle his friend who just sits there radiating mirth.

“I saw a movie like that recently.” Duncan breaks the silence. “The Macomber affair. A rich man neglects his wife engrossed in his business-”

“Haven’t heard of it.” Brandon interrupts without meaning to. “Sorry.” He offers as soon as he realises. “Is it new?”

“Nah, black and white, 50s I think,” Duncan answers “but they’re screening it in a theatre downtown this week.”

“We should watch that then.” Tyler suggests.

Patrick isn’t so sure; his friend is playing with fire but he’s the one that’s gonna get burned in the end.

Jonny barking a “Thanks a lot, Duncs” grumpily, not too loud but enough for Patrick to catch it, makes it worthwhile.

“The Macomber affair.” Patrick repeats, stressing the last word. “Sounds... interesting.”

“What do you say, Brandon?” Andrew asks his husband. “Up for a movie?”

Brandon shrugs. “Sure, if you want.”

Andrew locks eyes with his husband and licks his lips. “Oh, I want,” he leers, suddenly making everyone around him uncomfortable.

Brandon doesn’t seem to notice anything other than him. “Anything for you babe.” It’s so soft, intimate. It holds something heavy behind it, like a promise that makes Patrick feel like a voyeur.

He clears his throat “We should get going then.” He nudges Tyler and they both get up at the same time.

Brandon and Andrew are still lost in their own little world.

“Meet you there, then?” Tyler asks, clearly amused, poking Brandon on the shoulder startling him.

It takes him a moment to get with the programme but he stands up as well in the end, holding Andrew’s hand, fingers tangled together.

Patrick doesn’t miss the way he runs the pad of his thump softly over his husband’s knuckles. He can’t help but let a rueful sigh escape, especially since Jonny is right by his side but worlds apart at the same time.

He can’t help but wonder if there’s anything left salvageable between them.

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

Can silence be deafening? Can you feel isolated in a crowded space? These are the thoughts that cross Jonny’s mind in the dark of the cinema. He’s sitting between Patrick and Tyler and yet he feels disconnected.

There’s no sound other than the aeroplane engines landing in the film yet Jonny feels like his ear drums are about to burst. 

Luckily the scene changes and Gregory Peck appears relating the events of someone’s death. It’s enough not only to distract Jonny from his thoughts but get him engrossed with the plot.  

“Jonny, you fell asleep?” Patrick asks at some point.

Jonny shakes his head. “Wide awake. Is he the lover?”

“Yeah, Gregory Peck. Quite handsome, right?”

He doesn’t reply. What can he say really? He does have the urge to shield his husband’s eyes from the screen. If it were possible he’d want those blue irises solely focused on him. He hasn’t been like this in years. Is this were they went wrong?

On screen Gregory Peck cups Joan Bennett’s cheek and shuts her mouth with a kiss, swallowing the words that were trying to escape her lips. Jonny feels a sharp pain in his chest. “Wow, what the hell are you doing?” he blurts. “She’s someone’s wife!”

There are shushing sounds all over but he doesn’t have it in him to care. “Are you watching this Duncs?” he turns to his friend sitting behind him. “How dare he?” He’s somewhere between anger and weeps, the grip in his heart tightening.

“Shut the fuck up man” someone yells “we’re trying to watch.”

“But... this is preposterous. No one wants to see this. She’s someone wife and he’s touching her like he has the right... like he doesn’t break up a home... it’s --“he doesn’t know what he’s saying. His lungs don’t draw enough air and he has this inkling feeling he’s about to start panicking.

Someone holds his hand. No- not someone... Patrick. Patrick entwines their fingers and squeezes, tapping with his fingertips at the rhythm of his breathing. Something in him unknots and he can feel the air flow.

He can hear protests and shushes and an usher comes pointing a flashlight at him. “Sir, you need to calm down or I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Jonny’s not a hundred percent himself yet. He eyes the light suspiciously. He snorts. “Aren’t you playing gooseberry.”

“Babe, please.” Patrick’s voice is soft, right in his ear and Jonny can now feel the heat radiating off of him as he’s plastered to Jonny’s side. He takes a deep breath and revels in his husband’s musk. “Yeah, ok. OK, sorry.”

He feels Patrick relax against him and he takes a few calming breaths now that he can. He focuses on the film again, constantly aware of Patrick beside him, anchoring him.

There’s a man on the screen, granted not quite as dashing as Peck but a formidable presence nonetheless. “Is he the husband?” he asks.

Patrick nods mutely. On screen the husband shoots and hits a lion. Some sort of pride and a surge of justice overwhelm him. He stands abruptly and starts clapping. “That’s my boy!” he finds himself yelling.

There’s a commotion, hands next to him and behind him try to sit him back down. He’s faintly aware of Brandon’s and Duncan’s voices but he just stands his ground and beams haughtily at the screen.

Next thing he knows, they’re being ushered out of the cinema quite rudely but he can’t be bothered. A smirk is plastered on his face and is being swallowed whole by a feeling of vindication.

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

Patrick has this heavy weight in the pit of his stomach ever since Jonny’s outburst at the cinema. It’s guilt and it’s wearing him down because the last thing he wanted was to hurt his husband. He says so to Tyler who continues to be irritatingly gleeful.

“What the hell is your problem, man? The plan’s working. Look at where we are!” Tyler waves his wrist at the dimly lighted bar. “When was the last time he took you out?”

His friend does have a point, because the drink invitation was Jonny’s suggestion but that wasn’t the point Patrick is trying to make. “Did you even see him at the cinema? He was gutted, Ty. Devastated. He almost had a panic attack for fuck’s sake.” He hisses, quietly, so no one can pick it up.

“Yeah, well, it’s not my fault Jon’s so sensitive.” Tyler comments dismissively.

Patrick’s face reddens with fury. “But it’s entirely yours that you’re such an asshole.” Both his voice and words are venomous. He doesn’t know who this cold-hearted person beside him is, but definitely not his friend.

Tyler looks genuinely hurt. “Look, I’m sorry, OK?” he amends. “I thought it’d motivate him to I don’t know like, try and win you back maybe. And it did work -- kind of.”

Patrick sighs. “I don’t -- I think I’m going to come clean.”

He’s expecting Tyler to object, throw a tantrum but all he gets is a quiet “And then what? Do you think it’s gonna solve anything?” He opens his mouth but Tyler answers his own question. “It won’t. You’ll be even worse than you started. Don’t you want to know if what you hurt was his heart or his ego? “

Patrick doesn’t have an answer for him. Mostly because he genuinely thought that his husband’s reaction was one of a heartbroken man. He hates to think the alternative that his friend is suggesting.

“Is that what you’re doing?” He asks instead, deflecting.

Tyler frowns and his lips perch around the beer bottle. He swallows before he questions. “What do you mean?”

Patrick motions towards the cell phone, placed next to Tyler in an angle that would block it from anyone else’s view. “With Brown.” He doesn’t beat around the bush. “I’m not stupid, Ty. You’ve been texting him ever since you got here.”

Even in the darkness he can see a flush of pink in Tyler’s face. His friend squirms on his seat. “I -- it’s -- it’s nothing; just catching up.”

“Is it really? What is it that you’re after here? Because he did break your fucking heart Tyler. And he could easily do it again.”

“Jon broke yours, too but you fucking married him, didn’t you?” Tyler whisper shouts.

“That was different and you know it.” It was; the pain they caused each other had been out of fear and not malice.

“Really? Because from what I’m seeing he’s doing it all over again.”

Both of them stay silent. The best part of having someone so close is that they can understand without words; the worst that they know which ones to use to hurt.

“Look at him, Pat” Tyler breaks the quiet first. “Sure, he got upset and he got hurt but look at him now. He doesn’t seem broken to me. Must not care that much after all.”

Patrick watches Jonny slow dancing with Andrew, bodies pressed together both of them ignoring the way Brandon is glaring daggers at them as he too is swaying to the music with Duncan, who quite objectively make such a weird pair.

Tyler’s words cause him more pain than the sight and without giving it much thought to talk himself out of it, he strikes back. “Yeah, well, at least enough to _stay_.”

He doesn’t stay to see the outcome, he can’t bear it. It tears his heart to be so petty. He walks up to the couples dancing but he doesn’t interrupt his husband. Instead he taps Duncan on the shoulder. “May I cut in?” he asks, barely audible, scared that the tears that are threatening to spill might find a way out.

Duncan nods mutely and gives his place to Patrick, walking towards their table. Brandon’s warm, his arms around Patrick’s waist strong and confident. For a minute he almost forgets that this isn’t his husband. The height is the same, the bulk a bit wider and he barely fights the urge to bury his face in the solid chest in front of him, let himself sink in the comfort. It’s the smell that stops him.

Brandon smells like autumn: apple and cedar with a hint of cinnamon.  He misses Jonny’s musk, mixed with bergamot and green tea that smells like _home_.

“Hey, you OK?” Brandon asks with that soothing tone of his, a total contradiction to his rough exterior.

He moistens his dry lips with his tongue and makes a half hearted attempt to answer but no sound comes out. His eyes are probably more talkative because Brandon’s hands tighten around Patrick’s waist and he finds himself being pulled closer. He allows himself the solace Brandon so generously offers.

The dangerous game he’s playing is costing him both his husband and his friend. So much for having nothing to lose! Logically he understands that Tyler is conflicted, struggling with the remnants of hurt and his deep desire so he’s projecting his own worries and fears but Patrick himself is on the brink of falling apart. He can’t rescue anyone when he himself is drowning.

He burrows deeper in Brandon’s arms trying to smother the thoughts. All he gets is a few moments of mitigation before he’s shaken abruptly by a strong shove.

“Oops! Clumsy me.” Jonny’s not sorry, it’s written all over his crooked smirk. “Two left feet.”

“What’s wrong, Toews,” Brandon says, hands never leaving Pat’s waist “getting a bit green there?”

Jonny, the gigantic asshole, has the nerve to roll his eyes. “As if!” He says, making Patrick’s heart sink even further into the abyss. “We were lost in conversation and didn’t see where I was stepping.” He explains, returning his gaze to Andrew, eyes lingering.

Andrew flashes him a radiant smile and Patrick makes a valiant effort to not reach his hand and grab him by the hair. As he often likes to remind him, Andrew has an inch on him but right this instant Patrick feels what probably the last step is before Banner gives his place to Hulk. He could take him. Probably. Maybe.

“You do seem awfully cozy.” Brandon states. His voice calm but judging by the way his muscles clench under Patrick’s fingers, he’s clearly not unaffected. 

There’s a glam in Andrew’s eyes that fades as soon as Brandon continues. “Don’t mind us. Keep on.”

 Patrick doesn’t see more because Andrew shields his face away but he can’t help but wonder if his face fell at his husband’s dismissal or if he rejoiced in the chance to stay in Jonny’s embrace. Not knowing which is eating him inside.

He doesn’t get to find out because a wild Tyler appears. It cuts deep that he chooses to address Jonny instead of him. “Hate to break up the party but your friend over there,” he gestures Duncan’s way, “is hammered.”

“What’s he saying?” Jonny asks alarmed which makes Patrick frown.

“Don’t know. Tried talking to him but man the dude’s scary.”

Jonny rushes to Duncan’s side. By the time they all make it back to the table Patrick can’t detect anything wrong. Sure, he’s all sulky and gloomy but that’s his natural disposition.

Either way, their outing is cut short and the car ride back is chillier than the autumn Chicago air.

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

Jonny is stalling. Usually, he gets home dead on his feet and just slumps himself on the bed and doesn’t rise until the alarm rings. Tonight though, nerves frazzled and reeling he is too wired to instantly fall asleep. For the first time in his life he dreads lying next to his husband in bed because he doesn’t know how to act.

For most people having sex with a new partner for the first time is a complicated mixture of nervousness, uncertainty and shyness. Only he and Patrick were never normal people.  Their first time they were too busy antagonizing each other, chirping and bickering, trying to find ways to up one another, to feel any sort of jitters that were not arousal related.

So, this -- this is a whole nother level of uncharted territory. One that never in his most horrible nightmares would he have expected to live.

That’s why he finds himself in his living room, making small talk at 1:30 am with Tyler. Patrick is there as well but he has barely even spoken a word since the bar. “So, did you have fun?”

“Yeah, sure.” He doesn’t sound convincing “Thanks for – you know, showing me around and stuff.” He doesn’t look at Jonny; he’s too busy peeling the label off the water bottle.

Something is definitely wrong here. “It hardly counts as showing you around.”

Tyler shrugs, head still down, eyes glued to the water bottle. “Still, I appreciate it.”

“You’d have done the same for us.” He genuinely believes it, even if under these recent circumstances he can’t help but be suspicious of him. “So, you’re staying long?”

Tyler’s grip on the bottle tightens, enough to dent the plastic. “Em... I -- ‘m not sure.”

Patrick’s face falls and he huddles the sofa throw cushion closer. Jonny frowns, looking between his husband and Tyler. “Oh?”

“I -- I have an open ticket,” Tyler offers, “but -- I guess,” he pauses, swallowing hard, “until you kick me out?” The last part is spoken quietly.

Patrick makes a noise similar to that of a wounded animal. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Jonny hadn’t expected that kind of reaction from his husband and apparently neither had Tyler because he flinches at Patrick’s outburst.

Patrick flings himself to Tyler, who cowers but only for a second. “You’re not going anywhere, OK? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Whatever tension there was before it leaves Tyler’s body entirely and he relaxes cuddling Patrick closer. There are apologies exchanged and Jonny just stands there baffled. There are no explanations, no one is paying him any mind and he feels like an outsider in his own living room.

He clears his throat. “I -- I should go to bed. Leave you two to it.”

“Oh, no, stay.” Tyler’s tone is cheerful now. “Sorry. We just -- we were being jerks but we’re, we’re ok now, right?”

Patrick nods.

“Yeah, well, I better go anyway,” it is a bit of a coward’s way out, a good excuse to feign sleep when Patrick comes to bed “long day tomorrow.  And you can get the chance to sort this out properly.”

“Nah, we can talk about it tomorrow.” Patrick says. “We’ll have so much time, with you at work all day and all.”

“Yeah, and I’m kind of beat myself. Flight is catching up to me.” Tyler manages to agree around a yawn.

They bid their goodnights and Patrick follows him in their bedroom. They go about their nightly routine in awkward rather than comfortable silence and when they lie down there’s a space between them that while a few inches still feels miles apart to Jonny.

Sleep won’t come easy like this and he knows it. Instead of starting fidgeting he grabs his phone and after setting the alarm he opens the internet browser.

The page is stuck in a crime history web site and Jonny is confused for about a minute until he remembers lending it to Duncs. He doesn’t get the fascination. He’s more interested in the spiritual, self improving and mental awareness genre but Duncan is quite obsessed with this type of material.

“ _Family Drama_ ,” the headline reads, and Jonny knows a thing or two about that these days. “ _Husband slaughtered his wife on suspicion of adultery_.” Not that he condones murder but for some reason he understands the impulse even if he hates himself for that feeling.

“Hm? What ‘you say?” Patrick asks drowsily making Jonny realise he had spoken out loud.

“Oh, I was just -- reading the news. “Not entirely true, since that report is probably at least thirty years old. “A murder ... on suspicion of adultery.” He emphasizes.

“Shut that thing off so we can get some sleep.” Patrick’s lisp is more noticeable when he’s dozy and Jonny wants to hold him close until he falls asleep like he used to do.

They never really cuddle in their sleep because it is quite uncomfortable and Patrick likes to sleep on his belly and Jonny likes to sprawl but they did huddle together until sleep would take them.

That sick feeling inside him arises again drowning everything else so Jonny keeps on reading ignoring his husband’s words completely. “ _The assailant escaped arrest fleeing the country. On the way to the hospital, the victim expired.”_

Patrick turns on his side, facing away from him and Jonny thinks he might have caught a glimpse of something on his face but he’s not sure what exactly it was. He can’t help but wonder if he always had been that bad at reading his husband or if it is one of his recent failures as well.

He doesn’t give it much thought though because all he can really focus on is the way Patrick’s muscles ripple even under the T-shirt. He can almost feel the soft fabric rubbing against his own naked chest, his husband’s warmth, those solid wide shoulders, even though they’re not in any contact at all. How long has it been really since he touched Patrick in more than a rushed hug?

Closing his eyes he can still vividly remember lazy mornings, Patrick, soft and pliant and not in hurry but demanding as well, making Jonny do all the work. Knee to his chest, to give Jonny more room to work his cock inside, letting his leg fall only to make himself unbelievably tight just to tease him, neck craned to lick that tiny scar in Jonny’s right ear, or the mole underneath just to drive him insane, hugging his pillow and letting it go only to move his hand on Jonny’s hip, tugging him impossibly close, silently urging him on, ragged breathes and tiny moans getting drowned in each other’s mouths.

Jonny buries his face in the pillows to stifle both the memories and the longing; his own failures as well.

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

Jonny is grumpy and bitter. Not getting much of a sleep the previous night is only part of the cause. Spending all morning in a rental car outside his apartment building is grating on his nerves as well. He never thought he’d ever stoop this low but Patrick left him no other choice. It’s not like he absolved himself from any wrong doing but he refuses to be the bad guy in this story.

Then again, he doesn’t want to be the one to cast the first stone. His husband might be innocent. There’s a chance this is all one big misunderstanding. That’s what they’re here trying to figure out after all. But then again, every sign points to the opposite direction and this entire crazy shit make his head hurt, leaving him confused and frustrated.

“When the fuck are they going to come out, Duncs?” he asks sullenly “It’s after eleven and we’ve been here since the ass crack of dawn.”

“Stop being impatient. Stake out takes time.” Duncan chastises. “I saw this cop film one time -“

“Can it with the films and your crime books already. I know, OK. You’ve told me enough times to -”

“Shh!” Duncan interrupts him and that doesn’t bode well with his already frail nerves.

“Don’t you shush me. I can complain if I want to. You don’t get to tell me -“

“They’re coming out! If you keep yammering we’re going to lose them.” Duncan whisper shouts and that shuts him up immediately.

He gets himself ready, fingers on the key to start the ignition when the time is right.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Patrick and Tyler exit the building chasing each other in a playful fight over the car keys. Tyler almost wins but the keys slip right through his fingers and onto the ground.

As he dives in to get them he thinks he catches a glimpse of Jonny but doesn’t give it much thought because he’s determined to win the fight. He does grab the keys in the end and raises his fist in victory.

“There’s no way in hell I’m letting you drive my car.” Patrick says. “I’ve seen you drive. I don’t have a death wish!”

“But I won.” Tyler pouts.

Patrick charges at him which is quite funny because there’s no way he can reach up that high.

Tyler turns his torso away from him to taunt him and he clearly sees two figures slumping down on the seats of the parked car on the opposite side. He lets out a bubbling laugh because he’s sure now. They’re both too tall to be inconspicuous.

“It’s not funny asshole.” Patrick grumps, still thinking Tyler is jeering him over his height.

“Oh, but it is.” He says gleefully. “It’s actually hilarious. Your husband is stalking us.”

That grabs Patrick’s attention. “What? Where?”

“Don’t look. Other side of the road. Keith is with him.”

“Seriously?” He wants to look so bad but even the idea that Jonny cares that much to resort to something like that is enough to make his heart swell with hope.

“Told you it would work.” Tyler says smugly.

“I -- I never thought... I hoped.” Patrick still can’t believe it. “Seeing him get worried yesterday it made me so happy, you know? Like he still... But then -“

Tyler just nods. They’ve given all the explanations and apologies necessary. It was no use going over it again. “It was so fun edging him on. He’s so easy to rile up.”

“God I’m such an asshole.” Patrick says. “What kind of person does it make me to - you know feel this sick satisfaction when he --“He didn’t take pleasure in his husband’s pain but a small selfish part of him enjoyed all other aspects of Jonny’s behaviour.

“The kind that is willing to fight for love,” Tyler’s face is clear of any sign of amusement, his eyes suspiciously bright, “even if he has to play dirty. Do you know how rare that is?”

“You fought.” It’s not a question. He did. Patrick was there. He saw him do it. He nursed his wounds afterwards.

“He didn’t.” Patrick knows that too but he still hates the way Tyler’s voice cracks when he says it. “It takes two, Pat.”   

“Yeah, well, his loss.” This time it’s not a jibe on Brown, he is entirely sincere. He sets aside his own issues, he disregards the fact that they’re standing like fools outside the building and he just hugs his friend with all the force he can muster. “You’re so worth fighting for, kid.”

They stay like that for a while, silent, Tyler’s body in an awkward angle as he lays his head on Patrick’s shoulder so Patrick can pet his hair, fingers getting stuck in an obscene amount of gel.

Tyler moves away first. “How much you wanna bet that your husband has taken out a hit on me already?”

Leave it to Tyler to lighten the mood. Patrick chuckles. “For the last time Tyler, he doesn’t have ties with the mob.”

“You keep saying that but I’m sure the FBI has a file on him under ‘Shark Eyes’. They just haven’t found him yet.”

“You are ridiculous.” Patrick can’t help but be amused. “Come on, let’s go. We made enough of a spectacle as it is.”

 

* * *

 

 

Jonny and Duncan follow them all around Chicago, like they’re taking a tour of the city themselves. After what seems like hours they finally stop near the Navy Pier, their car left on an underground parking garage.

“Now what?” Jonny asks put out.

“You stay here, I’m gonna follow them.” Duncan’s clearly a man with a plan. “You keep an eye out as well.”

Jonny nods. “Make sure they don’t see you.” He advises. “And don’t lose them.” He adds as an afterthought.

“Don’t worry. I have this under control.”

“Yeah, yeah, go on Sherlock.”

Duncan leaves and Jonny is once again alone with his thoughts. He’s so tired of this struggle inside him. On one hand, he feels such gratitude towards his friend, for opening his eyes, standing beside him and helping him through all of this madness. On the other, he can’t help but resent him a bit for ruining his blissful ignorance.

His mixed emotions about his husband and this whole situation remain unchanging as does the burden he carries for his own shortcomings. As if everything else wasn’t enough, he can’t help but wonder if he has to worry about damn Seguin, too. Just how many rivals does he have to fight off?

All he hopes for is that there’s still time to repair the damage. If only Patrick hasn’t yet -- He doesn’t think he’d be able to forgive Patrick giving himself to someone else, even if it’s just his body and not his heart as well.

He knows that every time he’d try to touch him he’d feel resentment over the betrayal and he’d end up hating the man he loves. But if it’s just the beginning -- maybe, maybe they’ll find some way to forgive each other and start to build an improved relationship with more solid foundation.

That tiny devilish voice keeps sneaking up on him once in a while though, snuffing out every rational thought and pettiness overwhelms him. Battling with his inner self is exhausting.

The car door opens making him jolt. “Jesus fuck, Duncs. You scared the hell out of me. What happened? Did they see you?”

Duncan makes himself comfortable as if Jonny isn’t dying slowly inside by his side. “No.”

“Good job, buddy.”

“They stopped at a coffee shop. I paused for a second, just so they wouldn’t see.”

“Right. Good.”

“I went in right behind them.”

“Awesome.”

“It had an exit door. They left through there.”

“Jesus Christ Duncs. What the hell?”

Duncan shrugs and that raises Jonny’s blood pressure higher. “How was I supposed to know?”

“Your investigations skills are for shit.”

“That’s the thanks I get for abandoning all my work to play detective for you.” Duncan does have a point but then again, they did slip right through his fingers.

Jonny lets out a heavy, dejected sigh.

Duncan pats him on the shoulder lightly. “Come on, man, we’ll catch them somewhere else. They can’t be far away from here. We’ll just look for Patrick’s car.”

Jonny shakes his head. “No forget it. They’re gone now.”

“Don’t give up, Jonny. They’re out there.”

“Yeah, looking for Bran.” He rubs his forehead with two fingers to ease the tension. Or to check for horns. Or both at once perhaps. “Let’s -- Let’s just go.”

“You getting back to work?” Duncan asks.

“Nah, can’t really focus.” He sticks his tongue out, licking at the corner of his lips debating whether to share the embarrassing incident or not.  “I -- “He starts with a long heaving sigh “I almost made Trevor cry this morning.”

“Who’s Trevor?” Leave it to Duncan to miss the point entirely.

“Kid down in boxing. Yelled at him for shit knows what.” He is ashamed of himself. What kind of person does that? “I only stayed for an hour, Duncs. Corey threatened to quit and Hossa - I think he’s disappointed in me.”

“That’s why I stopped going.” Duncan states.

“Stop going where?”

“Work. Either that or I’d have to run the place myself. No one could stand me.”

Jonny’s head thuds into the steering wheel. “We’re such a mess, eh?”

He doesn’t expect an answer. The question was rhetorical.

 

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

 

“Bran. Bran.” He’s been at it since they returned home from the failed stake out. “Who the fuck is Bran?” Jonny repeats again and again. He can’t place the name anywhere. “Just-- Wish I knew who he was.”

“Don’t worry, Jonny. We’ll figure it out.” Duncan tries to placate him but follows it with a grumpier “And sit down already, you’re giving me a headache.”

“Yeah, sure. Now that you’ve lost them there’s no way we can.” He keeps pacing, glancing at the clock. Accusations don’t help but it’s not a time for rational thinking either. “See? It’s almost two and they’re not back yet.”

Duncan stays silent. Not that Jonny expected anything more. What can the poor guy say? As if he doesn’t have enough on his own plate to deal with. “Can you imagine what that Bran dude could be doing right this moment?”

“Come on, Jonny, chill.”

“Yeah, sure, chill. Of course, why not? Simple, right? Just what you’ve done with Brent.” He regrets the words even before finishing them.

“What should I have done, Jonny? If I stayed a moment longer I’d now be in the Metropolitan Correctional Center awaiting trial.”

Jonny doesn’t doubt for one second that he would be capable of murder. Given the right circumstances anyone would. “I’m sorry. You did the right thing, for sure.”

“Yeah, I just -- I think I need to get back on my feet though. I smashed my phone, I haven’t been to work in a week, I stay in a hotel for fuck’s sake. I can’t go on like this, man.”

“You do that. And anything you need, I’m here buddy. Anything.”

Duncan opens his mouth then closes it shut again, hesitating. Finally he asks. “Has he -- you know, called you?”

Jonny nods guiltily. “I had a missed call a couple days ago but I - business is crazy, you know? I didn’t have a chance to call him back.”

Duncan rubs his palm over his face. When he’s done, he has schooled his features giving nothing away. “Yeah.”

“Do you want me to call him?” Jonny offers because he may be self absorbed at times but he’s not a total asshole.

“Don’t.” His voice is calm, tone stony though. “Not for me at least. If you want -- He is your friend after all. I’m not making you pick sides here.”

Jonny knows. He’d rather lose everything than take it away from Seabs. Not long ago he’d have sworn it went both ways. “Nah, to be honest I can’t - I don’t think I can look at him right now.”

Duncan sits back on the arm chair, rests his head comfortably and shuts his eyes. Jonny wonders what he sees behind his eyelids. Does the image of Brent play over and over in a loop? Does he crave it as much as it pains him? Or is he still just one big ball of anger.

He doesn’t get the chance to ask any of this, he’s not even sure he would have, but the key in the door tells him Patrick and Tyler are back. Their laughs, high pitched and bubbly can be heard through the unopened door.

They saunter in, hands full of bags, eyes twinkling with delight. Jonny loves the blue in his husband’s eyes at times like this. It turns bright like clear waters drenched in sunlight.

“Oh,” Patrick says in surprise when he sees them, “Hello.” For a moment Jonny thinks he’s ready to surge forward and kiss him, like he would the old times, but Patrick doesn’t move. He simply says, “Social visit or business again, Duncs?”

The question addressed to Duncan seems to take him by surprise. “I - I came for the ... thing. Right, Jonny?”

Jonny is equally caught off guard. “Yeah, for the thing.”

“Ah, the thing.” Patrick shrugs as much as he can muster with all the bags he’s carrying and he just walks past them towards the kitchen. Tyler goes to follow.

“So, did you have fun, Tyler?” Jonny asks.

“Tons!” He replies cheerfully, stopping himself mid step. “Pat took me all over Chicago. It was awesome. We caught up with some people, saw some friends.”

Jonny thinks he stresses the word friends but then again it all just might be in his head. “Friends, huh?”

“Yeah.” He starts walking again and stops right before he gets out of sight. “Oh, I forgot! In a coffee shop I think we caught a glimpse of Duncan as well.”

He dashes off leaving them both open mouthed. Jonny recovers first. “They saw you, you numbnuts.”

Duncan doesn’t seem pleased with himself either but Patrick coming back doesn’t give them a chance to talk it over.

“So, where did you go?” Jonny hopes he sounds casual.

“Oh, you know, all around.” Well, that was enlightening. “Did some sightseeing, some shopping, had a coffee.”

“And it took you all morning?”

“What’s with the third degree?” Pat’s tone is still light and that frustrates Jonny more. “Is that what you do with Brent, Duncs? Ask where he’s been and what he’s done?”

Jonny hears the grunted “Brent” that escapes Duncan’s lips, sort of a hiss. He’s not sure Patrick heard it though. “Doesn’t matter what they do. This is about me.”

Patrick smiles warmly at him. “You never asked before. What’s with the sudden jealousy?”

Tyler pffts from the corner. “Jon? Jealous? Come on, Pat. Even I can see that’s not the case anymore.” He comes closer and checks Jonny softly. “Do you think the old Jonny wouldn’t pout and bring on the puppy dog eyes, guilt tripping you if you told him you’d go on a trip without him?”  

“Oh,” Jonny swallows past the lump in his throat, “You’re - you’re taking a trip?”

“Yeah, didn’t I tell you yesterday?” Patrick asks breezily.

“You said -“ He wants to argue it was an abstract remark but he just settles for “Yeah, of course. Just the two of you?”

“Yeah, just us.” Patrick replies and it might have been convincing if Tyler didn’t eagerly say “Just us” at the same time.

“And where -“ he clears his throat. “Where to?”

“Ah, just Springfield, show Tyler the Lincoln Museum and stuff.”

“Why would he even care? He’s Canadian.” It’s a valid point. Jonny didn’t care much when Patrick took him.

Tyler chuckles. “I’m mostly going for the Wildlife Sanctuary but it never hurts to indulge Patrick’s patriotism.”

“Oh, if you’re going to the Sanctuary I’ll come too.” He says and that startles Patrick.

“You will?”

“Yeah, why? Don’t you want me to?”

If Patrick is disappointed by this new development it doesn’t show. “Oh, no. That’s ... Well, then, I better make something quick to eat. The sooner we leave the better.”

“I’ll come help.” Tyler offers. “Make sure there’s something other than vegetables in mine.”

Duncan comes by his side and takes him by the arm ushering him towards the balcony, the only space in the house currently not occupied and the one with the most privacy. “Meeting. Now.” He says.

They go inside and Duncan shuts the door. “What the hell, Jonny? Why did you do that?”

Jonny frowns. “What?”

“You should have let them go.”

“To Springfield? Alone?” That’s absurd. Doesn’t he know what the stakes are here?

“Yeah. I’d have followed them.”

Jonny snorts. “Sure. So they can leave through the exit door. And go to Bran.”

“Yeah, well, you’ll never catch him like that.” Duncan sits himself on the sofa leaving Jonny to go for the chair. “Mark my words.”

Jonny is starting to doubt himself. “But Bran.”

Duncan flings his wrist dismissively. “Don’t worry about him. Leave it to me. You’ll have to focus on Patrick.”

“What do you mean?”

Duncan’s tone mellows. “Look, Jonny- Quite like you, Patrick... Patrick is a solemn, earnest guy, no matter what others think. Loving and loyal as well, to a fault maybe.” Jonny can see him hesitating. “If he- If he reached that point it might mean he lost interest, you know?”

“Lost interest?” Jonny squeaks. “In me? Us?”

“Just - I think you’ve - Me and you, we’re very much alike. Focused, dedicated but not like others. More to the extreme. We seem to forget that are things more important than work at times. So, if Pat... What I’m trying to say is -- Being neglectful, Jonny, one too many times, the business always coming first, takes a toll on your spouse.”

“He tried -“Jonny’s voice cracks. “He tried to tell me so many times, you know? He did.”

“Brent did, too.” Duncan says rueful. “I just never listened. Always too busy, never enough time.”

“Even- even yesterday. He said something about relationships being like living organisms or something that die out. Maybe.” He remembers but vaguely. “I didn’t pay attention.”

“He gave you fair warning.”

“He did. Truth be told.”

Duncan gets up and sits on the edge of the table, gently resting his hand on Jonny’s shoulder. “Do you love him, Jonny?”

“Love him? I’m crazy about him, Duncs. Since I first saw him, even if I didn’t know it then.” Jonny has been so dumb so many times. “Love of my life, actually.”

Duncan’s grip tightens. “Then there’s only one way to get him back.”

“What?” He hopes he sounds as eager and desperate as he feels.

“Old and tested.”

“Old and tested?”

“You have to make him jealous.”

“Jealous?”

“Listen to me, Jonny. Every person who is afraid of losing their loved ones dumps the Brans and the Pecks of this world and focuses on keeping what’s already dear to them. Do you get it?”

Jonny nods, hope rising inside him. “Yeah, yeah, make him jealous, Duncs, for sure. But how?”

“Different ways but I have the perfect for you. Simple and right to the point. The condom.”

There’s something very telling about Jonny’s state since he doesn’t get it. “Condom?”

“I wish I could burn the memory from my brain but I know for a fact that you don’t use them.” Duncan’s sour face doesn’t limit Jonny’s embarrassment. “Your husband is an over-sharing drunk, Jonny and I could have died a happy man not knowing the way your fluids feel when-“

“Jesus!” Jonny wants the earth to open up and swallow him.

Duncan groans in sympathy. “Yep. But that’s beside the point and please, let’s never ever talk about this again.” Jonny is so on board with that. “You need to carry one with you. Let it drop from your pocket, or you let him find it in the laundry. There won’t be any doubts as why you have it.”

“OK. I’ll go buy some.” Jonny promptly stands up. “The non-latex ones. Haven’t used them but seem like something I’d buy, right?”

Duncan sits him down again. “No need.” He already has one in his hand, the same kind Jonny was talking about.

Jonny’s jaw drops. “Why- why do you have that?”

Duncan drops his eyes on the floor. “After- When Brent - I thought, you know what? Fuck him. If he can do it so can I.”

“Did you?”

Duncan shakes his head. “Turns out, _I_ can’t.” 

The raw emotions in Duncs voice, the hurt and the bitterness make Jonny’s heart break for his friend. As soon as he’s done winning his husband back, he’s gonna throttle Brent.

For now all he can do is offer Duncan a shoulder to cry on.

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

 

Brandon is exhausted. He can’t wait to go up and take a long bath to ease his muscles. He tries to will the elevator to move faster while cleaning the grease from his hands with the rag.

The elevator pings and Brandon rushes towards his door, fumbling in his pocket for his keys. He gives up pretty quickly and rings the doorbell instead.

When the door opens he practically collides with - Tyler. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” He apologizes.

“Don’t worry about it.” Tyler says “What can we do for you?”

Brandon frowns. “I - “He takes a glance right behind Tyler’s shoulder. That is definitely not his apartment. “Oh, shit. I didn’t even look. I pressed the wrong button in the elevator.”

Tyler chuckles. “Happens to the best of us. Since you’re here, why don’t you come inside?”

Brandon looks down at himself. “I’m covered in grease. I was fixing the car down the garage and I’m filthy. Besides Andrew- “

“He is quite the jealous type, isn’t he?” Tyler asks in a way that infuriates Brandon. People are very quick to judge when they don’t know the facts.

“I meant to say, he’s expecting me for lunch. But yeah, he can be. Aren’t we all at times?”

Tyler nods quite eagerly. “Yeah, “then he frowns “but at that degree is rare.”

“Andrew is special.”  

Tyler’s expression changes, it becomes softer yet his eyes hold such sadness it takes Brandon by surprise. “You really love him, don’t you?”

“More than I can express in words.” Brandon could eat a dictionary and would still be unable to find the right way to enunciate his feelings.

“You don’t really have to; it’s written all over your face.” Tyler’s phone beeps and Brandon sees him reach for it in lightning speed. His whole body posture changes. He kind of leans forward as if he’d like to curl into himself but his lips twitch in something of a half smile.

He fires a speedy reply and pockets his phone again. “Right, sorry about that. What were we saying?”

“How feelings are being obvious in someone’s face.”

Tyler blushes. Brandon hadn’t thought him capable of it. “Doesn’t work that way for everyone.” He finally says.

Brandon nods. “Would have made everything easier, wouldn’t it?”

Tyler shrugs. “Maybe. Doesn’t seem to help you though. Your husband still goes berserk.”

Brandon lets out a long suffering sigh. “Andrew thinks - “He’s not sure if he should open up to someone who he just met but then again maybe he can get an impartial opinion. “He ... He’s afraid I’m gonna leave him. So, he, tries to do it at his own terms so he can see it coming.”

Tyler stands there, mauling over the information, “So, he wants a divorce?” He asks finally.

Brandon shakes his head. “He loves you?” Tyler asks again.

Brandon gives him a confirming nod. “He doesn’t want to lose you but he’s pushing you away.” Another nod comes from Brandon.

“That’s stupid!” Tyler exclaims. “It makes no sense.”

Brandon laughs. “Andrew logic. Don’t try to follow it.”

“And what do you do?”

“I let him.” Brandon states. “I figure if he does it hard enough and sees that I’m still there he’ll get it into his thick skull that I’m never going away.”

Tyler opens his mouth to say something but shuts it immediately. Brandon can see the gears turning, trying to figure where to find the thread that gets this whole mess untangled. “Wow.” Is what he finally utters. “But - how do you stand it?”

“How cheesy am I going to sound if I say love?” He asks with a shy smile.

Something clouds Tyler’s eyes. “Love isn’t always enough.”

“I have a feeling we’re not talking about me and Andrew anymore.”

Tyler shifts his weight from one foot to another; in the same predicament Brandon was a while ago, unsure if he wants to share his troubles.

He doesn’t get a chance to decide because the elevator pings again and a wild Andrew appears. Both of them jump back startled.

“Hello.” Andrew’s voice is low but growly nonetheless. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“By mistake.” Brandon replies calmly. “I pressed the wrong button.”

“Of course. And Tyler here, “Tyler’s name is being hissed, “just happened to be at the door, right? A total coincidence. Do I look stupid to you?” Andrew’s voice raises a couple of octaves.

“Babe, can you please -“

“Don’t ‘babe’ me you liar!”

Patrick appears at the door. “Are you all insane? Come inside. The whole building can hear you.”

Surprisingly, Andrew shuts his mouth and follows inside. “Seriously, Andrew, this is getting ridiculous.” Patrick chastises.

“Pat, don’t. What I do is my business and you have no right-“

Patrick puts his hand softly on Andrew’s shoulder, in an attempt to placate him Brandon figures. “OK, fair. I’m butting out. Just, calm down.”

“Easy for you to say. It’s not your husband we’re talking about.” He shies away from Patrick’s touch and crosses his arms on his chest defensively.

“I’d say the same if it was.” Patrick says and Andrew just snorts.

“Yeah, sure, I’m the irrational one. You’re not jealous of Jon at all.”

“I’m not.” Brandon hears the wavering in his voice and he bets his husband has heard it as well. “Really.”

“Sure.” One word from Andrew but holds all his disbelief.

Patrick stops biting his nail long enough to say, “Honestly,” then goes back to task.

“You want to tell me that you never get suspicious?” Andrew is pushing it. “He’s away for most of the day, surrounded by a ton of people and you just what? Don’t wonder at all? All those late nights, the meetings, cancelling dates...”

Patrick shifts closer to Tyler. “I’m worried he’ll work himself to death, that’s all.”

“Yeah, well, then you won’t see it coming when it hits you in the face.”

“Andrew enough!” Brandon butts in. “Apologize now.”

“It’s OK, Brandon, really.” He can see the hurt in Patrick’s eyes despite his assurance.

“No, it’s not.” Brandon is adamant. “It’s not OK. He can’t go stirring up trouble.”

All the while he talks he fixes his stare at his husband. He doesn’t get stern with him often but this is one of the times he won’t back down.

Andrew glares daggers at him, refusing to give in. Tyler rubs soothing circles on Patrick’s back who looks dejected.

“Andrew!” Brandon growls.

“Jesus Christ, man.” Tyler shouts and it’s the first time Brandon has heard him raise his voice. “What the hell is wrong with you? Can’t you see what you’re doing?”

Andrew breaks his gaze from Brandon and tries to glower at Tyler instead. Brandon can see the minute his husband spots Patrick’s expression because his face falls.

“Oh, Pat, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean -- I wasn’t thinking -“

“You never are,” Brandon says sternly, “you keep running your mouth, saying whatever the fuck you want damn the consequences.”

For once his husband doesn’t have a comeback. He lowers his eyes and mumbles another ‘I’m sorry.’

Brandon sighs and takes him by the arm. “Let’s just go.”

He ushers him towards the door and stops enough to offer yet another apology to Patrick. Tyler sends a pitying look his way.  There’s no sound in the ‘love’ he mouths at him, but Brandon hears the sarcasm anyway.

 

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

 

“What the hell was that?” Jonny asks as he enters the living room, Duncan in tow. “We could hear you all the way to the back balcony.”

“That lunatic was causing a scene.” Tyler balls up his fists. “He went ballistic when he saw me talking to Brandon and then tried to drag Pat in his mess of crazy.”

Jonny’s muscles tense up all at the same time. “What did he do?”

“He talked some nonsense,” Patrick tries to sound calm but Jonny hears the waver in his voice, “don’t worry about it.”

“What. did. he. say. ?” Jonny punctuates trying very hard to keep his cool.

“It was nothing, really.” Patrick insists. “Let’s just forget about it.”

“It was not.” Tyler interjects. “He tried to make you question-“

“Ty! Let it go!” Patrick’s tone is stern and that makes Jonny even more curious. What is it exactly that his husband doesn’t want him to know?

He’s about to ask but Patrick beats him. “What time is it? It’s probably getting late and we haven’t eaten yet.”

Jonny forgets what he was about to ask because he has a whole different question in mind. “Where’s your watch?”

Patrick seems startled by the question. He looks at Jonny and then down at his wrist. “Oh, I - I don’t know. Probably at my bedside table ... or my desk.”

Jonny frowns. Come to think of it, it had been days since he last saw Patrick wearing it. Did he lie when he told him he loved it?

“Shit!” Patrick runs his fingers through his hair. “Speaking of desk, I better go help Artem until we eat. I’ve left him alone all day again; he must be going crazy the poor kid. Can you guys set the table?”

“I’m on it.” Tyler offers.

They both leave and Jonny is left confused. “What just happened?” He asks Duncan who seems unfazed.

His friend just shrugs. “Beats me.”

“You’re no help at all.” Jonny natters.

“I am in things that matter.” Duncan counters and strolls past him sitting himself on the couch.

Jonny takes a sit opposite him, not having anything to argue.

“Should we go help?” Duncan gestures towards the kitchen but makes no effort to move.

“Nah, Tyler can handle it. We should make a plan,” Jonny pats at his pocket where he put the condom his friend have given him.

His phone goes off and he takes it out to look at the caller ID. “Hold that thought.” He says and swipes answer.

“Hey, man, what’s up?”

“ _I tried calling you at the office but they said you were out_.” He hears Saad from the other end. “ _They said yes, Jonny. They want to meet you tonight at seven to sign._ ”

“Oh, God! Really? That’s awesome!” He hasn’t felt that exhilarated in a long while. “OK, seven. It’s a date! Best one ever!”

Saad chuckles on the line and Jonny can picture him shaking his head at him. Jonny is too happy to care. “Yeah, whatever. Oh, and I won’t forget. I’m buying you that gift.” A promise is a promise and Saad worked his magic on that deal. He deserves it.

“ _You don’t have to_ ,” Saad tries to say but Jonny will have none of that.

“You deserve it! Gotta go now. Need to get things ready but we’ll talk later.” He hangs up the phone with a wide smile plastered all over his face.

He’s in the middle of rubbing his hands together in glee when he catches sight of Artem passing through to the kitchen. “Did the boss give you a break?” He asks jovially.

Artem stares at nothing and seems agitated. “Just gonna grab something to eat.” He doesn’t stay to chat further and Jonny can’t really blame him. Looking at numbers for hours can leave you hazy. It happens to Patrick all the time.

Jonny doesn’t give him any more thought. He’s too busy buzzing with excitement. “Five months, Duncs! I’ve been trying to get this deal for five months.”

“You lose some, gain something else,” Duncan comments bitterly. “I closed three deals the day I caught Brent- That’s what I went back home to tell him. “He shares nothing more but it’s enough to send chills down Jonny’s spine.

“For real? Ah, I’m gonna -“ Jonny licks the corner of his lips, a thing he always does when he’s nervous. “Maybe I should call Saad to cancel the deal, then.” He’s never been superstitious before but it seems today it’s a day of a lot of firsts.

Patrick shouts out to them. “Come on, lunch is ready.”

“Don’t be so hasty.” Duncan chastises.

“But you just said-“Jonny tries to argue. It’s not like the suggestion doesn’t pain him, it took effort to close that deal. Then again, he’d rather have Patrick.

Patrick’s head peeks through the door. “What’s taking you so long? Let’s eat so we can leave soon.”

“Oh, about that.” Jonny says. “We can’t go to Springfield.”

Patrick takes a couple of steps to the side to be completely visible. “Why?”

“Something came up.” Jonny shoves his palms in his pockets trying to look calm.

“Work again?” Patrick asks grumpily.

Tyler comes in just in time to catch Jonny’s nod. Patrick exchanges a look with him and then fixes his gaze back at Jonny and shrugs. “Then don’t come.”

Jonny straightens his posture. “You’re still going?” He asks, narrowing his eyes at both of them.

“Of course.” Patrick says casually as if it was given. “We’ll go and we’ll be back late. Or maybe not at all.” He turns to Tyler “We could spend the night.” He suggests and Tyler agrees immediately. “Sure.”

“No way in hell!” Jonny pulls his hands out spilling the contents of his pockets on the floor.

Patrick opens his mouth to argue but stops dead on his feet. “What-“he croaks “the hell is that?”

He kneels and picks up the condom packet. He holds it by the corner with the tip of his fingers carefully as if it burns.

Jonny is taken aback. He hadn’t planned for him to find it this way. “I- Well- ....” he turns towards his friend not knowing what to say. This was not part of the scheme. “Duncan?”

“Fuck Duncs!” Patrick shrieks. “What the fuck do you need a condom for Jonny?”

“Condoms are used during sexual intercourse to reduce the probability of pregnancy and decrease the risk of sexually transmitted infections.” Duncan parrots.

“Yeah, well, thanks a bunch Wikipedia.” Patrick snarls. “Last time I checked I couldn’t get pregnant and we haven’t used them” he gestures between himself and Jonny “since we got engaged.”

When he turns to look at Jonny again his expression is stone cold. “For the last time, why do you have a condom Jonny?”

“Come on, man, isn’t it obvious?” Tyler butts in and Jonny really wants to punch him in the face.

The landline rings and Jonny sighs with relief. He needs to gather his thoughts, find some excuse that will buy him enough time for his husband not to murder him on the spot.

Patrick being the closest grabs it. “Yeah.” He yells at the receiver. There’s a pause then he hangs up. “Who’s that Jonny? Who’s whistling?”

“Oh, they’re whistling at you, too? And hanging up?” Jonny questions curiously.

“Why?” Patrick asks in a suspicious tone “Are they doing it to you, too?”

Jonny nods.

“Maybe it’s someone for Artem?” Tyler suggests and for once Jonny isn’t ready to jump him.

“That’s easy enough to find out.” Patrick says and walks towards the door shouting Artem’s name.

Everyone follows suit meeting a startled Artem half way. “You had a call.” Patrick says, voice even but his hands still shaking.

“Me?” Artem asks bewildered. “Who was it?”

“Someone who whistles.” Tyler supplies.

Artem’s face heats up. “Ah, it’s ... my... boyfriend.”

There’s a collective exhale of relieved breaths. “Why is he whistling?” Jonny questions.

“So, I know it’s him and speak Russian.” Artem the poor man looks stricken. “His English is poor and I -“He pauses biting his lower lip. “He doesn’t always have enough minutes on his cell and I’m here most of the day- I - I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

Patrick reacts first. He gives him a one-arm hug. “It’s fine, kid. You’ve done nothing wrong. It’s OK.”

Artem visibly relaxes but not entirely. He looks at Jonny with a hint of fear still in his eyes. “It’s OK.” Jonny echoes his husband’s words. “He can call anytime. If any of us picks up he can just say your name, eh?”

The tension leaves Artem’s body entirely. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Patrick interjects. “Go finish your meal.” He urges.

Artem dashes out as fast as he can.

Jonny moves closer to Patrick. Once they’re face to face he lowers his head to peck his lips. His husband shies away abruptly. “Don’t you dare!” He shouts making Jonny flinch. “Who knows where your mouth has been.”

He makes his way towards the bedroom and Jonny moves to follow only for Tyler to beat him to it and block him. “Halt!” He says extending his arms. “Haven’t you done enough already?”

If the venom in his eyes were real Jonny would die a slow and painful death. “I- It’s not what it looks like.” He tries to explain.

Tyler huffs. “Seriously?”

“You have to believe me. I didn’t -“

“Save it for someone who cares.” He spits and walks away.

Duncan, hands in his pockets and body leaned in the door frame like he’s watching leisurely at a film, lets out a bubbly laugh.

“Are you seriously laughing?” Jonny spits angrily.

“What do you want me to do?” He replies casually, as if everything hasn’t just turn to shit.

“What are we going to do now, genius?” Jonny asks sarcastically, “You’ve created this whole mess. You and your stupid horseshit fucking plan. Patrick ... My Patrick is innocent.”

Duncan takes him by the hand like a baby and sits him on the couch. “Why? Because the whistling was for Artem? We’re not looking for Russian boyfriends, Jonny. We’re looking for Bran. Are we going to forget about him?”

Jonny buries his face in his hands. “I can’t -- This is too much, Duncs. I don’t-“

He is not capable of articulate speech at this point. The bell saves him the trouble of trying.

Someone opens the door- probably Artem and Andrew comes rushing in.

He halts when he sees them. “Oh, hey. Sorry. I- I forgot a bag when I was here earlier.” He says looking around.

“A bag?” Jonny is still in his own little world, words confuse him.

“Yeah, I did some shopping and I forgot-“ Andrew walks through searching. “Oh, here it is.” He takes the bag and sends a small apologetic smile Jonny’s way. “Sorry to bother you.”

In a moment of clarity, Jonny stops him midway out the door. “Hey, Andrew, can I ask you something?”

Andrew stops. “Sure.”

“You-“He pauses, suddenly unsure. He rubs the back of his neck. Andrew looks at him expectantly. “You’re pretty jealous of Brandon, right?”

Andrew’s face hardens but nods nonetheless. “Why?” Jonny asks. “Has he given you reason...”

Andrew walks back inside and sets the bag on the coffee table, taking a seat next to Jonny. “Last year.” He starts “Right after we got married. You see, he had this house in Springfield. “

“Springfield.” Jonny parrots.

“Yeah, his great uncle’s really but he’d left it to him after he passed.  Every weekend for about three months he was up there. Supposedly trying to shape it enough to sell. Every weekend, Jonny. I work construction, dude, it doesn’t take that long. And he never asked me to help, not once. What the hell more does a paediatric nurse know that I don’t?”

“Spriengfield, Duncs, you hear that?” Jonny doesn’t wait for a reply. “So, what, you caught him with someone there?”

“Well, I -“

The door bell rings again and Jonny puffs in irritation. Artem gets it again and Jonny makes a mental note to talk to Patrick about giving him a raise.

Brandon comes in all smiles but his tone is chastising when he speaks to Andrew. “Come on, babe, what’s taking you so long? You just came to grab your bag. Oh, hey, guys.” He adds as an afterthought.

“We were the ones who kept him.” Jonny offers but Andrew raises from his seat and goes to stand next to his husband.

“He can come right back, really.” Brandon sends a sugary smile Andrew’s way. “I just need some help packing. He’s always rearranging the closet and I can’t for the life of me find anything.”

The guilty look on Andrew’s face doesn’t leave room for doubt. Jonny doesn’t miss the glint in his eyes though. He probably does it on purpose so he can feel needed. “Packing? Where are you off to, Brandon?”

“St. John’s. For a neonatal nursing conference.” Andrew provides crossly.

“St. John’s, huh? Are you going with him?” Jonny has this inkling feeling inside. He might not be a connoisseur of health care facilities but he’s pretty sure he knows where that’s located.

“No. He’s going alone.” Jonny doesn’t have to look at him to know he’s unhappy about it.

Brandon hugs his husband close to his chest. “Don’t start, babe, please.”

Andrew pouts. “Why can’t you take me with you?”

“Because you start at the new construction site tomorrow, babe” Brandon states, like they have had the conversation before “and I won’t be back until the day after tomorrow.”

He lifts one hand and caresses his husband’s face bringing their nose together in an Eskimo kiss.  Andrew rubs his cheek in his palm. “Oh, Bran.”

“Bran?” Jonny squeaks. “Bran who?” He jumps from the couch in an instance. “What did you just call him?”

Both Andrew and Brandon look at him like he’s insane. “Bran.”

“Why Bran?” Jonny insists.

“Short for Brandon. Andrew likes to call me that sometimes.” From the heated look between them Jonny doesn’t have to wonder at what times the name is murmured.

“Come on, babe,” Brandon says glancing at his watch “it’s getting late.”

Jonny’s eyes are now glued at his wrist. “The watch. Patrick’s-“

Brandon follows his gaze. “Oh, yeah, I got myself one, too.”

“You bought this?” It’s between a question and a statement and an attempt to buy some time so as not lose his marbles right this instance.

“He’s been raving about it ever since he saw Pat wearing it.” Andrew says. “He wouldn’t settle down until he got it. He’s weird like that.” He pronounces weird like it’s an awe inspiring trait.

Jonny slaps an open palm at Brandon’s arm, colliding with hard muscles. “Brandon.” He says and taps again. “Who’s also Bran.” Another pat. “And _weird_.” One pat more. “And is going to St. John’s.” He pats again. “And spending the night.” A harder tap. “And likes pretty things.” His palm starts to sting but Brandon seems unfazed. “And doesn’t settle down until he gets them.”

“Now, you’re the one being weird.” Brandon comments. “And we really have to go.” He looks uncomfortable. Or is it guilty, maybe? Jonny can’t tell.

Andrew disentangles himself from his husband, retrieves his bag and goes back to being glued to Brandon’s side. They turn their backs on him with a hurried ‘Bye.”

Jonny stands there fumbling with the hem of his shirt that suddenly feels too tight for his neck.”I’m going to kill him.” He spits through clench teeth.

Duncan rushes to his side and sits him down. “Let’s stay calm.”

“Calm?” Jonny shrieks. “I finally found Bran and I’m going to just let it slide? He was supposed to be my friend for fuck’s sake.”

The double betrayal cuts deep. “Divorce. I’m getting a divorce.” The words spill from his mouth involuntarily.

“Proof.” Duncan says. “Do you have any proof?”

Jonny lifts his palm and counts his fingers. “Bran. The watch. He gave him the fucking watch I bought him. Going away. Springfield...  Both staying the night.”

“All circumstantial. Not hard evidence.” Duncan insists. “They don’t hold up in court. I’ve read a law book or two. Trust me.”

“What would you have me do, Duncs?” Jonny can’t reign in his exasperation. “Ride the car and follow them? And catch them after the act?”

“Shush, I’m thinking.” Duncan waves at him. “We can-“He’s tapping his mouth with his fingers, gazing hard into nothingness. 

Jonny is hanging from his lips with bated breath. “I’ve got it!” Duncan exclaims after what seems hours. “Genius! Tapping! A surveillance device!”

“A what?”

“A bug, Jonny. Come on.” Duncan looks at him like he’s a moron. “Every spy in film and books uses one.”

“You’re gonna drive me insane with all your spy shit.”

“I have an ... acquaintance.” Yep, that doesn’t sound shady at all, Jonny thinks drily.  “He’s into electronics and stuff. In half an hour I can be back with one.”

“And where are we going to put it?” It’s a logical concern whatever Duncan’s look might try to convey.

“We’re putting it in Brandon’s car.” Duncan’s ‘duh’ is heavily implied. “He and Patrick are going to talk, the bug will pick it up and we’ll have the recording. I’ll have to ask Rozi about the specifics. But after we’ll have undeniable proof.”

Jonny rubs his neck again. “I don’t know Duncs. This -- so many variables, I - it’s making me dizzy.”

“Don’t you want to catch them?”

“Of course, I do.” It’s the only thing he’s sure about. “Whatever. Bring that thing. Plant it. Do whatever.”

Duncan stands up and gestures him to do the same. “Come with me. We should hurry if we want to be back before he leaves.”

Jonny follows him blindly. Duncan seems to know how to go about it and Jonny, himself, doesn’t have the time to wonder where this path will lead him.

 

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

 

Artem stands outside Patrick’s bedroom trying to gather up the courage to knock. He owes Patrick a lot, the least of all this truth but he’s not certain if he should talk. Maybe some things are better left unsaid. Then again, wouldn’t he like to know if he were in his position?

Patrick rips the choice of time out of his hands when he hesitantly opens the door. Artem takes a step back startled as Patrick takes a cautionary peek. “Are they gone?”

Artem nods silently. With the door now wide open Patrick and Tyler exit the room. “Did you need something?”

“Yes. I--“ Artem picks the skin off his bottom lip with his nails. “I needed to talk to you.”

Patrick takes a good look at him and his expression softens. “Is it about your boyfriend again? Because I told you, it’s fine. I don’t know why you had to keep it a secret.”

“We-- We’re not used to being open. And he’s not-- ” He hesitates for a second and immediately is ashamed of it. He knows he has nothing to fear from Patrick. “He’s illegal.” He finally murmurs.

Patrick sighs. “Yeah, I figured. I was also thinking. You know how hectic things have been lately. We need more hands on deck.” He walks and rambles, both guys following after him. “At least a handful. Maybe renting an office space. And I know you said his English is limited but we can work with that. He can start low, running errands till we find him something else. I don’t suppose he’s good with numbers like you?”

He stops abruptly causing a bit of a ruckus, Artem crashing into him as Tyler in turn collides with him chest to back. “You mean--“ Artem swallows, “You want to give him a job?” He’s very close to tears and he can’t even be bothered.

Patrick shrugs like it’s not a big deal. “We can’t be a decent accounting firm with only the two of us now, can we?” He smirks. “We have to figure the legalities later though. And we should also talk about a raise for you. Don’t think I haven’t noticed all the other things you do around here. I can’t offer much at this point but-”

“Jon is having a date.” Artem blurts overwhelmed by Patrick’s generosity and thoughtfulness. How can such a tiny person have this big of a heart?

The sound that comes out of Patrick’s lips is not human. It’s incoherent noise. He clears his throat. “What?”

Artem takes a deep breath and lowers his eyes. After everything he can’t look at him while delivering this news. “I heard him on the phone. Best date ever he said. Tonight at seven.” He doesn’t dare mention the gift part.

“That sleazy, cheating bastard!” His words are venomous but the tremble in his voice is enough for Artem to understand that he’s fighting back tears. “No wonder he didn’t want to come to Springfield.”

“It explains the condom as well.” Tyler fills in the blanks. “And work is always a good excuse it seems.”

The light in Patrick’s eyes is from understanding not glee. “I thought -- He seemed so busy with work, I never questioned-“

“An excuse. Always occupied with something so as not to raise suspicion.” Artem doesn’t think that Tyler’s comments are helpful but he keeps his mouth shut. He did enough damage already. “Remember how Ty was always absent before--“His words fade leaving Artem wondering about that story but Patrick seems to understand.

He grips the back of the armchair to steady himself and Tyler rushes to him, helping him to sit. “If-- I won’t--“Patrick is openly crying now, unashamedly. “Can you die of a broken heart?” He asks between sobs clutching his chest. “Because I feel-“

“You’re not gonna die, Pat.” Tyler crouches down to his feet. “Did I die when Ty left? No. I survived. I went on.” The last statement is not uttered with the same conviction, Artem notices.

He also can’t help but notice that Patrick is as white as a sheet. “Come on, Pat. You need to eat something; you haven’t had anything all day.”

“I can’t.” He replies between sniffles.

“You have to.” Artem insists. “You’re getting paler by the minute.”

“I don’t care.” He tries to bite out but there’s not much strength left in him.

“So what? You’re gonna starve yourself to death?” Artem raises his voice, trying to make him understand the absurdity of the situation.

Tyler’s phone chimes, once, twice, three times and that makes Patrick dissolve in another fit of sobs.

Artem’s eyes open wide at the reaction and Tyler looks guilty. He glances towards Patrick and then back at his pocket clearly conflicted.

Artem glares daggers at him and that seems to make the choice easier. He sighs and goes to rub soothing circles on Pat’s back.

Artem goes for the liquor cabinet. A shot or two of vodka never hurt.

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

 

Jonny and Duncan sneak into the apartment building garage on their tip toes. Totally unnecessary since no one is to be seen anywhere near but a

thoughtful precaution measure nonetheless.

Jonny points at Brandon’s car. “That’s it. “ He whispers. “Now what?”

“Now we open the trunk.” Duncan murmurs. “We set the recorder and throw the bug over the back dash.”

Jonny frowns. “And how do we do that? We don’t have a key.”

“I know how.” Duncan replies smugly. “I read a book once. But we have to make sure the alarm isn’t on.”

“And how do we do that?” Jonny repeats, thinking that Duncan’s brilliant plan isn’t so brilliant after all.

“Easy.” Duncan says. “We kick it.” And follows it up with a kick on the back wheel.

“Fucking hell, Duncs!” Jonny whispers shouts. “What the fuck did you do that for? Do you want us to get caught?”

“Relax.” Duncan’s nonchalant tone gets on Jonny’s nerves. “Nothing happened.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t know that.”

Duncan shrugs. “Now I do.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” He throws his hands up in the air in surrender. “Whatever. Do your thing. I’m gonna get Andrew.”

“What do you need that lunatic for?” Duncan grumps.

 “To be a witness.” Jonny explains. “We need as many as we can with that ancient piece of crap your friend gave us.”

“He doesn’t have these things lying around, Jon.” Duncan protests. “It’s a fine piece of equipment. It’ll do the job.”

“But we won’t be able to hear anything.” Jonny argues.

“We don’t have to. Jesus!” Duncan is losing his temper and Jonny his patience. It’s his whole life on the line here. “The recorder will do fine. Then we’ll get the tape and you can listen to it to your heart’s content.”

Jonny swallows the bile that threatens to rise. Duncan talks as if he’d want to play Patrick’s infidelity on a loop like a favourite record. The again maybe he will. Maybe he’ll listen to it over and over so as not to forget that Patrick broke every vow he had ever made.

“Fine.” He gives in. “I’ll go get Andrew.”

Duncan gives and affirmative nod. “I’ll wait for you in my car.”

Jonny takes a deep breath and leaves the garage. Here goes nothing.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jonny wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans as he knocks quietly on the door. He hopes Andrew is the one answering it because he doesn’t have a good excuse to give Brandon as to why he is there. He waits nervously a moment or two and then knocks again more forcefully this time.

It takes a few seconds before he hears footsteps coming closer. Luckily for Jonny, Andrew opens the door and Jonny raises his index finger to his lips to prevent him from speaking.

Fortunately, Andrew gets the clue and steps out pulling the door behind him until there’s but a crack left open. “Where’s Brandon?” He mutters.

Andrew follows Jonny’s example and lowers his otherwise loud voice. “In the shower. Why?”

“In the shower, eh? Of course he is.”

Andrew narrows his eyes at Jonny’s insinuations, clearly confused. “I don’t understand.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” he taps Andrew’s cheek gently, “with all your jealousy and keeping tabs.” He can feel Andrew’s jaw muscles clench under his palm. “I’ll tell you why he’s taking a shower.”

He pauses unsure how to go about it. “Well?” Andrew asks impatiently.

“Your husband and my husband--“

“Yes?”

“Springfield... Staying the night.” Jonny’s sure he can connect the dots. It’s rather obvious.

Andrew wrinkles his nose. “I don’t get it.”

Jonny rolls his eyes in exasperation. “Babe,” the echo of Brandon’s voice reaches their ears, “can you get me a towel?”

They both freeze in their spots. Jonny is the first to recover. “Go get him the towel and meet me in the garage. I’ll explain there.”

“Babe, did you hear me?” Brandon insists. “Andrew?”

Jonny flicks his wrist gesturing him to go on. “I -- OK, give me a minute.” Andrew says glancing back inside the apartment. “I’ll -- I’ll bring his bag down.”

Andrew goes back inside and closes the door behind him. The click is barely audible but it deafens Jonny. It fills like putting the final nail in the coffin that is both their marriages.

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

 

Andrew has always been good with riddles, an excellent puzzle solver but for the life of him he can’t figure out what has Jonny acting so shady and what his state has to do with him of all people. Throwing in both Brandon and Patrick’s names is what baffles him the most.

He lets his husband dry off and forgoes any thoughts of another round of quick ‘going-away-for-two-days-and-I’m-gonna-miss-you-like-crazy’ sex and grabs Brandon’s bag.

He finds Jonny waiting for him, pacing outside the apartment door. “What’s happening?”

“Let’s take the elevator down,” Jonny escorts him there by the arm, keeping his voice low still, “and I’ll explain everything.”

With every word Jonny utters Andrew feels the earth move under his feet and it’s not because the lift is moving. He catches bits and pieces because his head is spinning. He wasn’t serious when he was questioning Brandon about Patrick but he should have been as it turns out.

“I never --“He starts but doesn’t know how to collect his thoughts to form sentences. “I mean, I’m-- I don’t get it. I’m even taller than him and I have a six-pack, and hair! -- is it because I talk too much? It’s because I talk too much, isn’t it? “He moves his hand up and down the entire time, gesturing at himself.

“No, don’t go there.” Jonny says as if he understands what Andrew is trying to say. “It’s not you.”

Andrew wishes he’d felt as adamant and confident about it as Jonny seems to be. “But it is.” He murmurs self-pityingly. “I always knew I wouldn’t be enough for him. Blue-collar bumpkin who constantly runs his mouth with nothing important to say and can’t quite control his temper--“

“You were good enough when he married you,” Jonny spits angrily; “you’re more than good enough still. You’re not the one at fault here.”

Andrew wishes he could believe him. Brandon used to say similar things to him and look how that turned out. “What do we do now?” He asks instead.

“Duncan put a bug in the car.” Jonny explains. “Whatever they say it will be recorded and we’ll have all the evidence we need.”

He opens the garage door and Andrew follows. “I can’t -- I just--“he’s so frustrated he starts to yell. It comes out like a short, sharp yelp, like a coyote yipping in the night air.

“Shhh,” Jonny shushes him, “we don’t want Brandon or Patrick to hear. It must be done in secret.”

“I can’t stand it, Jonny.” Andrew whines. “What should I do?”

“You think I can?” Jonny counters. “Just be patient. You’re getting a divorce, aren’t you?”

“Of course I’m gonna divorce the bastard.” Like there’s any room for doubt. He was too stupid to clutch at a very slim ray of hope down deep inside but he’s sure now that he should have gone with his instincts and trust nothing as fickle as Brandon’s reassurances.

He opens the trunk and he catches Jonny’s eye searching for something inside. He doesn’t see anything out of place himself which means Duncan has either done an excellent job or has failed completely.

“And you? You’re gonna split, right?” He questions. It’d be kind of hypocritical of Jonny to give him advice if he were to forgive Patrick and go back to him.

“We’re getting a divorce, for sure.” Jonny reassures with a steady voice. His hands are in his pockets so Andrew can’t detect any signs of uncertainty.

Placated he lifts Brandon’s bag to set inside the trunk. “Nice,” he says sarcastically, “You’re getting a divorce, I’m getting a divorce, then what Jonny?” He lets the bag down eagerly awaiting for Jonny’s reply. He seems like a guy with a plan and Andrew himself has no idea what the hell he’s gonna do next.

“Then, we’ll get it on with each other back.” Jonny says startling him, making him close the trunk jerkily with a loud thud.

“What?” He squawks, eyes budging out as if he were a cartoon.

Jonny frowns at him. After a beat his jaw drops and his ears flush pink. “Get _over_ it.” He squeals. “Go _on._ We’ll _have_ each other’s back.” He explains and the horrific expression on his face makes Andrew believe it was just a slip of the tongue and nothing he actually meant. “I’m sorry. I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore.”

Andrew, finally relieved at least for this part, pats him on the back in solidarity. “I know. It’s fine. I don’t even know how I’m still holding it together myself.”

“We’ll get through this, buddy. You’ll see.” Jonny sounds as unsure as Andrew feels.

They share an equally knowing glance but stay silent stewing in their lie. It beats the alternative. Neither is strong enough to handle it.

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

 

Patrick has been in the same spot since Artem spoke to him about Jonny’s date. He can’t move, he can’t think, all he can do is cry. He only wonders what will happen when his tears dry up. He would be left with nothing then.

“Come on, Pat.” Tyler urges. “You can’t keep doing this. You’ll get yourself sick.”

“Tyler’s right.” Artem chimes in as well. “Don’t give him the satisfaction of breaking you completely.”

“Listen to him,” Tyler advices, “he’s a smart cookie.” Patrick turns his head in time to catch the lopsided smile he sends Artem’s way. He’s too tired to roll his eyes at him but somehow Tyler senses the hidden urge.

He schools his features and continues. “Or better yet, take your own advice. Remember what you told me when Ty left?”

Patrick doesn’t fail to notice how much easier Tyler talks about it. “I do. Every word.” He punctuates. He pauses and takes a good look at his friend.

Tyler seems settled somehow. There’s no hurt in his eyes, not a hint of sadness. “The time came, didn’t it?” It’s a conviction disguised as a question.

Tyler shuts his eyes in concentration. Patrick doesn’t have to be a mind reader to know what’s crossing his friend’s mind. “ _The time will come when he comes crawling back to you_.” His own past words echo in his head.

At last Tyler opens his eyes, exhaling deeply. “That was not what I was talking about and you know it. Stop deflecting.”

“You’re right,” Patrick concedes “but nothing I’ve said applies here because Ty didn’t cheat on you.”

“You don’t know that. She was in the picture long before he left me.” And there’s the sting evident in his voice again.

“You still stayed and fought for him exactly because you weren’t sure. But I am, Tyler. _I_ know.”

“What do you want to do then?” Tyler asks. “Anything. Just name it.”

Patrick is uncertain. He never had a backup plan when it came to his marriage because he’d never thought it’d end. Whenever he pictured the future he envisioned him and Jonny turning into Statler and Waldorf, the old Muppet hecklers, driving their kids and grandkids mad with their snark at family gatherings.

He can’t have that now. He can’t have any of the things he dreamt about. He looks around and has the air knocked out of him by the overwhelming memories. Every corner of this apartment is a piece of the past and the never-coming future that’s slowly slipping away through his fingers.

He stands up abruptly and wipes his eyes with the back of his hands. “I want to leave.” He states.

“Leave?” Tyler asks. “And go where?”

Patrick shrugs. “A hotel. I’ll just pack a few things until --“

“You can come stay with me.” Artem offers. “Both of you. We don’t have much room but we--“

Patrick stops him with a hand on his shoulder. He gives him a rueful smile because it’s the only one he can master at this point. He’s also getting chocked up, overwhelmed by Artem’s gesture. “Thanks, but no. I -- I need some distance.”

Artem’s face falls and Patrick rushes to clarify. “Plus, I need you to pack up my work stuff. I don’t trust anyone else with it. I’d do it myself but I can’t stay here any longer.”

Artem nods eagerly. “Don’t worry about it. I got it. Anything you need.”

A few new tears fall down Pat’s face, this time they’re because so much support warms his heart. It makes him feel like he’s not completely stranded in a city that was supposed to be his home but feels too small to contain him now.

He surges forward and hugs Artem as tightly as he can. Maybe a bit too tight if the way Artem squirms is anything to go by. Years of being underestimated had made Patrick forget his own strength. Artem, bless his soul, says nothing, just stands there returning the hug and waiting.

Patrick disentangles himself and makes his way to the bedroom. It’s only after he takes his duffel out of the closet that he notices both men have followed him. He opens and closes drawers, shifts hangers in the closet trying to decide what to get.

Every article of clothing is another memory. The shirt he wore on their anniversary that by a miracle survived Jonny’s ferocity that night, the tie his husband bought him before his big interview when he decided to go back to work, the jacket Jonny spilled cheap wine on that very first New Year’s before they started up the company... “The ungrateful bastard,” he hisses shoving the grey wool away like it prickled, “after everything... “

He shuts the closet door with force and starts shoving T-shirts and sweatpants from the drawers inside the duffle. He doesn’t look at what he’s grabbing because he doesn’t want to remember anything else. “I was always there-- by his side.” He mumbles. “Helping and waiting; being patient and hoping...”

He halts his movements because the tears spilling blur his vision. “See how he likes it now that he’ll come back to an empty house.” His whole body shakes, his voice trembles and he begrudges himself this weakness.

“Serves him right.” Tyler says harshly from somewhere he can’t pinpoint. “You’ll be better off anyway.” The voice sounds closer and closer until Patrick feels body heat right behind him.

Tyler extends his arm and for a moment Patrick thinks he’s going to hug him. It’s not that he wouldn’t welcome the comfort but he feels that if Tyler touches him he’ll fall apart.

His friend touches his hand instead, confusing him until he blinks his eyes open slowly and sees himself clutching at a T-shirt, knuckles white from the force. It’s Jonny’s linen tee and as soon as he realises it he lets it go and searches his palm for scalds. What burns deeper is his desire to nose at it to keep Jonny’s scent for a little while longer.

“You don’t have to do it,” Artem says probably sensing his hesitation, “you--“

Patrick shakes his head vehemently. “No. No turn backs. This is it.”

He gathers up his courage and continues to fill the duffel bag’s space to the brim. There’s no need for both of them to be empty.

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

 

Brandon feels oddly rejuvenated after his shower even if the scratches on his back stung under the pouring water and the bite marks Andrew left on his neck are too high to hide under the collar of his shirt.

It wouldn’t come as a surprise if people were to know that Andrew gets incredibly wild in bed, especially when Brandon has to go away. What would baffle them is that Brandon himself encourages him, edging him on with hands and lips and words, driving him mad enough to lose control. 

He wears the marks like badges of honour and loves showing off that there’s someone important waiting for him back home. That’s why he takes special care and makes sure to polish his wedding ring so the light can reflect over the solid gold. He leaves no doubts that he is a married man very much in love with his spouse.

The only one who doesn’t seem to realise it is Andrew himself but Brandon has hope that the day will come when his husband actually believes.

With similar kind of thoughts he gets ready and catches himself whistling a playful tune, smile never leaving his face. It only falls when he finds his husband sitting in the armchair in their living room, knees tucked to his chest and head resting on them.

“Babe?” He nudges softly, making Andrew whip his head up startled.

“Oh, hey, you’re ready?” His eyes are glassy and something in the way he looks at him makes Brandon’s insides chill.

“Yeah, all done. Are you all right?” He can’t help but worry. He knows Andrew gets sad when he leaves but he’d never seen him show it so openly before.

“‘m fine.” He replies but he doesn’t meet Brandon’s eyes.

Brandon crouches down and lets out a heavy sigh. He cups Andrew’s face softly. “I’ll be back before you know it, OK?”

Andrew shrugs with apathy. “Have a good trip.” It’s all he says.

Brandon frowns. “You won’t come down with me?” Andrew always joins him and bids his goodbyes, staying at the curb until Brandon can’t see him in the rear-view mirror any more.

“Can’t. Have a headache.” If he didn’t open his mouth to speak Brandon would have thought that a waxed doll has replaced his husband; he barely even moves when he breathes.

“Babe, if you’re not well-- “ Brandon is getting concerned, “I can stay. Fuck the conference.”

Is it his imagination or did Andrew’s eyes just darken? “No, ‘m fine. You go. Have fun.”

For the first time since he met him, Brandon can’t read his husband at all. “Are you sure you’re OK? You’re being kind of weird. Different.”

“Just the headache,” Andrew insists. “I’ll go lie down.  You go, it’s getting late.”

“If you’re sure.” Brandon concedes reluctantly. “Do I at least get a kiss goodbye?” He puckers his lips but Andrew leaves a quick peck on his cheek. Brandon furrows his brows at that.

“You’re --“ Andrew  starts to say but stops. “You’ll be back Sunday morning?”

Brandon smiles warmly at him. “Like we said. Time will fly so fast you won’t even notice I’m gone.”

He leans down and kisses his husband right on the lips. It takes two caresses on Andrew’s bottom lip with the pad of his thumb to coax him into opening his mouth to allow Brandon’s tongue in.  Brandon pours all his apologies and reassurances into it but he is met with Andrew’s stubbornness.

Brandon cherishes even the small taste and vows to make it up to him when he gets back.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

In Duncan’s car, parked at the opposite side of his apartment building, Jonny wills himself to wait patiently. He fails. The newspaper Duncan gave him to hold, because apparently that’s how inconspicuously is done, is half torn under his sweaty, squeezy palms but it at least hides his face from the world.

He’s not the one who should be ashamed but he doesn’t exactly condone his own actions either. He always knew there were no limits to what he would do for Patrick but he never imagined stooping this low and definitely not for this reason.

He does have some pride left though and a bruised ego that craves justice.  That’s what he’s trying to salvage since his husband’s actions made it abundantly clear there’s nothing else left for them.

‘Kerosene’ by Miranda Lambert blasts through his phone, interrupting his mulling. He doesn’t bother to look at the screen. It’s the ringtone he set for Andrew’s signal and the only reason why he even turned his cell on in the first place.

“There’s the signal.” He lets Duncan know, taking deep calming breaths so as not to do exactly as the lady sings.

“He’s gonna be down any minute now,” Duncan says, “when he leaves-“

“We’re following him.” Jonny recites the plane.

“We’re following him.” Duncan agrees. “He’s going to go somewhere to wait for Patrick.”

“We’ll be there.”

“We will.” Duncan assures him. “Don’t worry, we’ll--“ Duncan’s hand is left hanging mid-pat.

“He’s coming...”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Brandon strolls towards the garage. He’s ready to push the remote control to open the door when he hears hurried footsteps behind him and hushed speech.

He turns around curiously to see Tyler and Patrick rushing out of the door carrying a duffle bag. “Hey, Patrick,” he shouts to get his attention “where are you two off to?”

Patrick, crestfallen, drags his feet towards him, with a murderous looking Tyler supporting him with a hand on his lower back. “I’m getting a divorce.” He states, matter of factly, void of any and all emotions even though his lower lip is wobbling.

“What?” Brandon could sense the tension between Jonny and Patrick when they went out together but he could never imagine being so bad it’d warrant a divorce. “What the hell happened?”

Patrick loses his seemingly cool disposition and come apart in heaving sobs. Brandon doesn’t hesitate; he huddles him close to his chest in the only way he can think to show comfort and support.

In hint sight, maybe it wasn’t the best plan if Patrick’s unrestrained bawls are anything to go by.

With a heavy sense of incompetence he turns to Tyler for some kind of guidance to help Patrick stop shaking like a leaf in his arms.

He finds the man looking over his shoulder in a paranoid state. “Let’s get in the garage.” He dictates, without further explanation. “We’ll talk there.”

Tyler supports Patrick’s weight as Brandon clicks the remote. Patrick looks a bit steadier on his feet by the passing minutes.

“Can you tell me what’s going on, now?” Brandon asks.

“Jonny’s having an affair, that’s what’s happening.” Tyler grumbles.

Brandon’s eyes widen in shock. “With whom?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care.” Patrick answers, weeping. “Knowing he’s cheating on me is enough.” He repines and lets himself get lost inside Brandon’s welcoming arms once more. “Why did he do it, Brandon? Why?” He whines and Brandon can’t do anything but softly caress his hair.

 

 

* * *

 

_Meanwhile..._

 

“What happens now, Duncs?” Jonny is thrown off by this turn of events.

“An unexpected development.” Duncan sounds like he’s an anchorman relating news, pristine and proper. “We’ll have to wait and see.”

“Wait for what? Chase them all the way to Springfield?” Jonny has had enough of being patient. “Whatever they had to say, it’s already been said. And your gadget recorded it all, didn’t it?”

“Of course.” Duncan assures him.

“So? What are we waiting for? Let’s go.” He moves to open the door when Duncan stops him with a hand on his arm. “What now?” He snarls.

“Call Andrew.” Duncan suggests. “He’d want to be there.”

Jonny bobs his head in agreement. He gets his cell out and finds Andrew’s number. He swipes ‘call’.

He doesn’t have to wait long, Andrew answers on the second ring. “Garage, now!” Jonny barks and ends the call.

This is not a time for pleasantries and savoir- vivre even if he knows him maman would be horrified if she knew. Though, under the circumstances, she’d probably start cursing in French like some kind of sailor, making anyone who understands the language blush.

He opens the car door and both he and Duncan make a run for it, the doors behind them shutting with a loud bang. They only stop -halt really, dead on their feet when they reach the open garage door and see Brandon and Patrick in a tight embrace, his husband’s face hidden under Brandon’s arm.

“Got you!” He yells triumphantly. He makes a cross sign. “Thank you, God!” He doesn’t feel like a winner but he does feel vindicated. “In his arms, eh?”

The adulterers have no shame at all and they take their time getting apart. “Couldn’t wait, could you?” He spills his poison.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” The weasel, also known as Tyler, has the audacity to ask.

“Of course, you would be here you prick,” Jonny ignores the question “Third wheeling it, I see.”

“What’s going on, you guys?” Brandon has the nerve to act all innocent.

“Shut your trap!” Jonny throws his way; he doesn’t have time to consort with husband-stealers. He puts a foot outside the garage and starts chanting Andrew’s name.

It doesn’t take much time before Andrew comes barging in. “What happened?”

“We caught them red-handed.” Jonny extends his arm to point their way. “ _Cuddling_.” The word numbs his tongue like it’s venomous.

Andrew ignores Patrick completely and goes to attack Brandon. “I-- I’m gonna kill you!”

Jonny is barely able to detain him. “Wait. Let’s check the recorder first. See if there’s any shame in them left to lose.”

“What recorder?” Brandon questions indignantly. “Have you gone completely insane?”

With the corner of his eye he catches Tyler opening his mouth as if ready to speak. “Shut it, Seguin.” His tone leaves no room for defiance.

Duncan opens the trunk and retrieves the recorder. Jonny doesn’t catch sight of it until it’s in his friend’s hands. “Did it work?”

“Pfft, of course!” Duncan brags. He does something with the buttons that Jonny doesn’t care enough to notice. Instead he puts his hands on his hips, tapping his foot on the ground. Andrew is gripping his shirt sleeve tugging him down but Jonny lets him anyway because he can empathize with his state of mind.

The other three exchange bemused glances and Jonny can’t help the way his lips curve into a smirk. There’s no way out for them now. It’s time for the truth to shine.

Duncan gives him the thumbs up signal and presses play.

_“I can’t -- I just--“_

_“Shhh, we don’t want Brandon or Patrick to hear. It must be done in secret.”_

“What the fuck?” he croaks. He turns to Andrew. “Is that you and me talking?”

_“I can’t stand it, Jonny. What should I do?”_

_“You think I can? Just be patient. You’re getting a divorce, aren’t you?”_

“What the fuck?” It’s now Brandon’s voice that’s puzzled.

“Forward it, Duncs,” Jonny rushes, “After that.”

Brandon shuts his mouth with his palm.

_“Of course I’m gonna divorce the bastard.”_

Brandon’s hand tightens around Jonny’s mouth upon hearing his husband. “You’ll do what? Divorce me?”

Andrew opens his mouth to reply but his husband’s stone cold glare stops him.

_“And you? You’re gonna split, right?”_

_“We’re getting a divorce, for sure.”_

You could have heard a pin drop; no one neither blinks nor breathes eyes and ears glued to the tape sound.

_“Nice. You’re getting a divorce; I’m getting a divorce, then what Jonny?”_

_“Then, we’ll get it on with each other -”_

“Is that so?” Patrick howls. “You’ll get it on with each other.”

Jonny uses both of his hands to remove Brandon’s palm from his mouth. “Don’t try to twist this around.” He warns. “Duncs, forward it.” He urges. “Go to _their_ part.” He can’t even utter their names, he just hisses the pronoun.

Duncan fidgets and bites his lip. “There’s no more.”

“What do you mean there’s nothing more?” He shouts, certain his forehead vain is popping out ready to burst. “What the fuck kind of cheat-o-phone is this that records me and not the others?” The injustice suffocates him.

“Something must have happened and it stopped recording.” Duncan’s remorseful, guilty expression does nothing to appease Jonny.

“You finally got your way.” Brandon addresses his husband all of a sudden. “You can have your divorce. Funny how it won’t be because _I_ was the one cheating.” His words are spiteful but he looks dejected.

“The nerve on you!” Andrew has his index finger pointing at him accusingly. “We catch you cuddling with that- that _slug_ and you have the audacity -“

“You sanctimonious prick!” Patrick attacks back. “No wonder you were telling me I wouldn’t be able to see it coming when it hit me in the face.”

“At least he’d use a condom.” Tyler huffs Jonny’s way. “Probably for the best.” He points at Andrew. “Who’d want to catch his crazy?”

There’s a collective hiss of “Fuck off, Tyler.” and the next thing Jonny knows Brandon has him grabbed by the shirt.

“You’ve just dug your own grave.” He growls. “Illinois is a ‘two-party consent’ state. You and your _buddy_ there,” he whizzes towards Duncan “just bought yourselves 1-3 years each.”

He shoves Jonny out of his way and into Duncan who look at each other unable to believe this disaster. Brandon climbs into his car and drives off not caring if he runs over anyone on his way.

Jonny doesn’t get a chance to exhale in relief because there’s a loud crashing noise coming from outside. He’s too stunned to move, back against the wall for support, but Tyler, Patrick and Andrew dart outside.

There’s a loud gasp, a few sharp inhales and Andrew’s loud shriek. “What happened? Is anyone hurt?” He asks Duncan who has a better view of the outside.

“No, thank God.” Duncan answers clearly relieved.

“What the fuck, Duncs?” He rubs his palm all over his face helplessly.

“Eh, that’s nothing.” Duncan dismisses him. “One time, in this film I saw-“

Jonny doesn’t know about the film but _he_ sees red. He grabs Duncan by the lapels of his jacket and shoves him hard against the wall.

 

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

 

Artemi’s bangs fall messily on his forehead no matter how hard he tries to adjust them to the side. Vanity is not the reason. He’s failingly trying to cover the purple marks on his face as best as he can. It’s not like Artem won’t see them, he just wants to postpone the inevitable a little longer.

He had prepared an entire speech and various excuses the previous night, pumped up with adrenaline making him reckless and stupidly brave, only to have his partner call him up to inform him he’d stay at Kane’s house. He’s ashamed to admit that the only thing he felt was relief. He may have kissed the Virgin and baby Jesus icon a couple more times than usual in thanks. It saved him from having to lie and let him focus on asking forgiveness after the fact.

He’s still not out of the woods, he knows. That’s why he called Artem to meet him in public at this ungodly hour. He figured his partner wouldn’t want to cause a scene in a coffee shop, not without having the cops involved and even if he’s not confident how things will turn out between them after this, he’s one hundred percent sure Artem would never intentionally harm him in any way.

He also hopes that from now and by the time his partner returns at home in the evening, he’d be calm enough to listen to Artemi’s reasoning, giving them a fair chance at fighting for their relationship.  For the time being, he sips his coffee as carefully as he can with a busted lip and hides himself in the cafe corner.

That’s why he doesn’t see Artem entering. He takes a whiff of his scent only when he’s within reaching distance. “ _Luchik?_ ” There’s enough worry in his voice to send Artemi into another guilt trip.

He doesn’t turn to face his partner; instead he reaches in his pocket and places the watch on the edge of the table.

Artem’s sharp intake of breath hurts deeper than the cut on his right brow. He can feel his partner move from his left and he hears the thud when Artem plops himself on the chair opposite of him. “ _What did you do?_ ” He snarls at him.

Artem takes a deep breath and lifts his head, eyes downcast, still not ready to read the disappointment into his partner’s eyes.

There’s a long moment of silence that leaves him unnerved, unsure of what Artem’s thinking. He doesn’t know where he finds the courage to meet his gaze but when he does he wishes for another punch in the face; it would have hurt less.

There are unshed tears in the brim of Artem’s eyes, his fist -thumb tucked in- firmly over his lips. _“Miliy, I-“_

Artem stops him with a raised palm. “ _Was it worth it?_ ”

“ _I didn’t go to Vasily-_ “He tries to explain. Because, yes, he fought, but it had nothing to do with the _mafiya_ \-- or at least he doesn’t think so. Definitely not the Russian, though.

“ _Was it worth it?”_ Artem repeats, voice cold as ice.

Artemi rubs his sweaty palms on his jeans, lowering his eyes unsure if he wants to ask the question. He figures it doesn’t do any good to prolong the possible heartbreak. He might have enough time to live with the pain after this. He meets his partner’s eyes with fake courage. “ _Am I losing you over this?_ ”

Artem clutches the coffee table with both his hands, closing his eyelids shut, keeping Artemi out. “ _I don’t know._ ” He finally says.

He bites the inside of his cheek to stop the tears from falling; he never cries when in pain- he clenches his teeth and moves on. The breakdown comes after he’s safely home. “ _Then that’s my answer, too_.”

“ _And --_ “ He can see Artem’s inner struggle but he has no way of helping. He’s an equal mess himself. “ _And if you were?_ ”

This time he doesn’t have to stop and think. “ _Then, no_.” He says with as much ferocity as he can muster praying that Artem can hear the truth in his words.

Artem’s fists grip the table even tighter, knuckles white from the effort. “ _Then why?_ ”

“ _Because it had to be done_.” He hesitantly cups Artem’s hand with his shaking palm. His partner doesn’t shy away from the touch but Artem can clearly sense that he wants to. The why hits him like a ton of bricks when he looks down at their joined hands.

Artem’s eyes are glued into his bruised and bloody knuckles. Self consciously he retreats his hands and tucks it away on his lap. “ _I couldn’t let you sacrifice --“_

Artem doesn’t let him finish. He stands up abruptly, pockets the watch and sends a cold, hard stare his way. The ‘ _thank you_ ’ he mutters as he walks away is anything but sincere.

 

  

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

 

The landline ringing is what wakes Jonny up. He’s disoriented enough to forget for a moment why his whole body aches and the reason he’s draped all over Duncan, huddled together on his living room sofa.

Then everything comes back to him at once: The fighting and the yelling till they were blue in the face, the accusations and counter-charges, to the inevitable quarrel of who gets to sleep in the house and who’s to be sent away.

He was stubborn enough to not back down, stand his ground which only got him Patrick and Tyler getting locked up in the bedroom and them crashing on the couch. The home office sofa was occupied by Artem.

The phone keeps ringing, getting on his last nerve so he grumpily sits up but not without taking the time to stretch his poor aching muscles.

By the time he’s wake enough to be semi-functional the ringing has stopped. He walks outside to find Artem with the portable phone on his hands. “Who was that?” He asks around a yawn.

“Don’t know. By the time I answered they’d already hang up.” Artem explains.

Jonny notices his puffy, red-rimmed eyes and can’t help but regret involving the poor guy into their whole mess. He mustn’t have gotten much sleep last night thanks to all of them.

Patrick emerges from the bedroom. “Who ‘s it?” he echoes Jonny’s previous question droop-y eyed and tussle-haired, looking soft and child-like, with sleep still in his bright eyes that turn ice blue the moment he catches glimpse of him. “The douche from upstairs?” He shoots a glare pointedly Jonny’s way.

“They hang up.” Artem repeats and makes haste getting away from them. Jonny can’t really blame him.

“Your lover, probably.” Jonny retaliates.

“You’re out of your fucking mind.”

“Me? Or you? Having the nerve to look me in the eyes after everything you did.”

“Everything _I_ did?” Patrick asks affronted, voice raspy and threateningly low “After your bawdy reveals you mean.”

They stare at each other without blinking reminding Jonny of those Western showdowns he used to re-enact with David when they were kids. He never lost and he’s not about to start now. “There was a glitch in Duncan’s cheat-o-phone.”

“ _Bond_ in there,” Patrick gestures with his head, sarcasm oozing out of his every pore, “should get the fuck out of my house as soon as possible and take you with him on his way out.”

“You can fuck right off. Duncan’s _my_ _friend_. Unlike that weasel you have sleeping in _my_ bed, in _my_ house. Your lover can put both of you up, for all I care.”

“My lover?” Patrick croaks. “You hypocrite; you cheating, lying bastard!” He surges forward but Jonny is able to get out of the way, having learned to anticipate those kinds of reactions. Defence is the best offence after all.

“Me? Then what does that make you?” Two can play the game; they can wait and see who will prevail.

“A fucking fool with a two-timer for a husband, that’s what.”

“I’m not the one cheating.” Jonny wails, finding himself suffocated by the unjust accusations. “You are! Ridiculing me, making me the laughing stock.”

Patrick shoves him hard, taking him by surprise. “You stupid, _stupid_ fuck.”

“Stupid. Of course stupid, for having thought you were better than that.” He probes at Patrick’s chest with every word that leaves his mouth. “Blind and deaf and stupid. That’s me.”

Patrick lets out an inarticulate cry drawing back out of Jonny’s reach.

Jonny grabs his head with both hands in frustration. “Just out with it. Admit it and leave me in peace.”

“In peace, huh?”

“I just --“ Jonny tugs his tee so he doesn’t do anything he regrets for the rest of his life. “I can’t --“ He feels his head spinning and dashes to the bathroom to pour some water on his face. He can collapse later, for now he needs to be strong enough to handle the truth.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Patrick goes in the bedroom determined not to give Jonny the satisfaction of seeing him cry. He finds Tyler wide awake, sitting cross-legged on the bed.

“Leave him in peace, did you hear?”

“I did. I’m not deaf.” Tyler’s impassivity is grating on his nerves but he’s the only one Patrick has left.

“What should I do?” 

“ _’What should I do, what should I do?’_ ” Tyler repeats mockingly. “I told you what to do.”

“Do you think it’s easy?” Patrick snaps at him. “I need to be sure he’s cheating, Segs, before I can ask for a divorce.”

He knows he’s only kidding himself but as long as that last shred of doubt remains he’s certain it will haunt him for the rest of his life.

“Make sure,” Tyler grants, “but if you want to make him admit it you need to bring out the big guns.”

“And what are those exactly?”

“Make him splutter. Tell him, ‘Yes, I’m having an affair.”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” He doesn’t know where his friend comes up with such preposterous advice.

“I’m not; but he will be when he hears you admit it.” Tyler sounds so sure of himself, maybe enough to leave Patrick on yet another impasse. “He’s too

competitive to let you win even at this, so he’ll blurt it all out to one up you.”

That makes sense in a weird, twisted way. “You think?”

“Guaranteed. Page 234 on ‘Jealousy strategies for beginners’.”

Patrick scrunches up his nose “What the fuck is that?”

“A book I read a while back.” Tyler supplies. “How do you think I came up with the steps?”

“A whole lot of good they did.” Patrick snarks. “And did you really read that many pages?” He can’t help being equally disbelieving and impressed at the

same time.

Tyler gives him a playful shove that turns to a nudge when they hear the flushing sound coming from the bathroom.

Patrick stands up and gives Tyler a determined nod. He opens the door, coming face to face with Jonny. “I’m gonna ask one last time,” he blurts, trying to

corner his husband, not giving him a chance to get away, “are you fucking Andrew or not?”

“Pot calling the kettle black, eh?” Jonny, it seems, has calmed enough retrieving back to his old dry-witted self.

In a moment of clarity, or incredible stupidity, -he’s not sure which yet- Patrick decides that Tyler was right all along. “You’re right.” He states matter-of-

factly. “I’m having an affair.”

Jonny’s jaw drops, no sound escaping his open lips.

Satisfied, at least for now, Patrick turns his back on him and shuts the bedroom door behind him.

 

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

 

Jonny runs to the living room and with trembling hands tries to shake a snoring Duncan awake. “Duncs! Wake up, Duncs.”

“Wha?” Duncan jolts, his flying arm catching Jonny in the ribs.

“Wake the fuck up. Patrick is having an affair, Duncs.” Can’t he understand the severity of the situation?

“Yeah, well, I know.” Duncan says around a yawn, palm coming up to cover his mouth. “Did y’ really ‘ve to wake ‘m up for that?”

“He came clean, man. He admitted it.”

Duncan shrugs. “Eh, aren’t you happy? Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Jonny takes a second to think about it. “When you’re right, you’re right. Of course. That’s what I wanted.” He thought he’d feel a sense of peace, less of a

crazy person and more vindicated that he was right. Instead, he only feels ... hollow.

He lets his head fall in the armrest with a sigh.

“Ah, here’s the evidence.” Duncan says still yawning.

Jonny turns to see what the hell his friend is talking about. “Patrick’s watch.” He exclaims at the object being waved in front of his face. “How did it end up here?” He wonders looking at the spaces between the cushions.

“It must have fallen off your wrist.” Duncan speculates.

“My wrist?”

“Yeah, didn’t you grab it from Brandon yesterday?”

“I did?” He asks bewildered. He’s still kind of hazy over the details.

“You must have or else how did it end up here?” Duncan reasons, rubbing at his eyes in an attempt to awake himself entirely.

“Makes sense.” He loses his calm as soon as he remembers. “Do you understand, Duncs? He gave my gift away to _Bran_. And _he_ had the nerve to walk around wearing the evidence on his wrist.”

He feels the rage inside him flare up. “We should kill him. We should kill them all.”

“Yeah, sure,” Duncan agrees instantly, “but can we get a cup of coffee first?”

Jonny shrugs nonchalantly. “Of course. We’ll need to be awake enough.”

They stumble to the kitchen, Duncan still half-awake, Jonny’s mind running a mile a minute trying to come up with the perfect game plan.

Artem, Tyler and Patrick are also in the kitchen. Tyler is frying some eggs by the smell of it, Patrick just holds his cup as Artem pours coffee on it.

“Can you save us some?” He asks Artem ignoring everyone else around him.

“We’re all out.” Patrick snarls.

Jonny clenches his fists trying to control himself. “I think I bought quite enough.”

“Yeah, well, “Patrick shrugs never turning around to look at him “’t was mine and now it’s gone.”

 _‘Kind of like you’_ Jonny wants to say but he swallows the bitterness. He takes a good look around and realises there’s no place for him in here.

“Come on, Duncs,” he urges, “there’s nothing left for us here.”

“I haven’t even washed my face.” Duncan grumps.

“Move the fuck on, Duncs.” Jonny hisses and grabs him by the arm.

He only pauses in the front door, suddenly unsure but moves forward in the end letting the door shut behind him.

 

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

 

The coffee shop is relatively empty, which is a blessing after the night Brandon had. The only thing that makes him feel a little bit better is that guy in the corner who looks like he went a few rounds with a two by four. His life must suck worse than Brandon’s which is both oddly comforting and shamefully petty.

He shags his aching muscles in a chair wondering if he’d be able to get the kinks off his back after sleeping in his car the whole night. As if his morning couldn’t get worse, Jonny and Duncan come rushing in.

They halt when they see him whispering at each other. Brandon can barely contain his rage. He stands up and surges forward. They move as well and they meet in the middle.

“Toews,” he hisses at the same time as Jonny’s growling “Bollig.”

Duncan on his part lets out a bemused “Duel in the sun.”

Brandon understands the reference but finds it irrelevant, except the showdown part. “Exactly. It’s either me or him. This needs to be settled.”

Jonny nods his agreement. “Sit down.” Brandon orders.

They all do at the same time, weirdly synchronized. “Do you think I’m having an affair with Pat?” Brandon cuts to the chase.

“I don’t have to think, he confessed.” Jonny snarls. “’ _I’m having an affair.’”_ He says, poorly imitating his husband’s voice. “Those were his exact words.”

“With me?” He asks baffled. Why would Patrick say such an outrageous lie?

“You’re Bran.” Duncan butts in, making him even more confused.

“It slipped. He went to say goodbye to me but said ‘ _Bye, Bran’_ instead.” Jonny explains or accuses, Brandon is not exactly sure.

“And does it have to be me?” He tries to reason. “There must be hundreds of Brans or Brandons in Chicago.”

Jonny turns to his friends instead. “Duncs?”

Duncan crosses his arms on his chest. “What about Springfield?”

“What about it?” He doesn’t understand why this guy meddles but lets it go for now because there’s something fishy going on here.

“Patrick and Tyler were to go there yesterday. And stay the night.” Jonny is the one doing the explaining this time. “And so were you.” The last thing was definitely accusatory.

“I was going in St. John’s for the conference; Close quarters -- inside the hospital.” This is so ridiculous that if he didn’t feel like crying he’d want to laugh. He takes his phone out and searches through his emails. “Here, see?”

Jonny takes the phone from his hands and looks over the case file they were going to discuss, the instructions and the confirmation email with all the details having been made a month beforehand. “Duncs?”

Brandon lets out an exasperated sigh. Here we go again.

“What about the watch?” Duncan questions.

Jonny extends his hand, sleeves rolled as if ready for a fight, fingers pushing Brandon’s chest. “Explain that if you can.”

“Is the watch really that important?” He can’t help but ask. “And if it was Patrick’s as you suspect, do you take me for such an idiot as to wear it around you?” He raises his jacket sleeve pointing at the dumb watch cursing the day he bought it.

Jonny grabs his wrist. “That’s Patrick’s watch.”

“No,” Brandon insists, “that’s mine.” He then notices the watch on Jonny’s own wrist. “ _That’s_ probably Patrick’s. I bought mine three days ago.”

Jonny looks down on his wrist and then over at Brandon’s again, blinking. He opens his mouth but makes no sound. He unhands Brandon and goes to take off the watch. As soon as it’s off he turns it around looking at the back and his whole face freezes.

Brandon doesn’t know what it’s inscribed but it doesn’t look to be in English. It’s probably French if he were to make an educated guess. He can still see that Jonny is not quite convinced so he takes his off too with a deep sigh. He turns it over and offers it to him. “See? There’s nothing there.”

“So --“ Jonny takes a second to clear his throat, “Patrick isn’t cheating on me?”

There are a myriad of emotions flashing into Jonny’s eyes so Brandon can’t really tell what it is exactly that he’s feeling. “Certainly not with me. Other than that, I have no clue.”

“Who does?” Duncan says contritely. “Even I didn’t see it coming and I’ve read a ton of books. Not to mention the films. I got completely blindsided.”

“You, too?” That’s the first Brandon have heard of it.

Both men bob their heads in unison.

Brandon buries his face in his palms. “Andrew. Who would have thought?” He says sullenly, lost again in his own agony. “I’ve done everything I could to -- Loved him so much -- Showed him every day -- I’ve put up with all his -- and to do this? To me?”

“Andrew’s cheating on you?” Jonny asks, sounding stunned.

Brandon’s rage resurfaces from the mockery. “Of course he does. With you.”

“Me?” Jonny warbles. “No, no, I swear.” He denies.

Brandon searches his face for any trace of lie. “Scout’s honour?”

“Well, I was never a scout,” Jonny says, “but I swear, not with me. Other than that--“

“The recording?” It’s now Brandon’s turn to ask the trick questions.

“Duncs’ scheme,” Jonny explains, “so that we can catch you and Patrick in the act.”

There’s that treacherous heart of his skipping beats in the possibility of hope as he listens to Jonny explaining everything. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Jonny nudges Duncan with his elbow who just nods.

Brandon exhales in relief. “Mollified?” Jonny asks full of hope.

“Yeah,” he admits with a smile, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. “you?”

“Yes.” He says the corners of his mouth turning upwards and sparkles dancing in his eyes.

Duncan sighs, morose, making both of their smiles turn bleak.

No one speaks for a while, they just sit there each lost to their own thoughts. Jonny moves first. He stands up. “Let’s go.” He says.

Brandon doesn’t know where and why but Jonny sounds too determined for him to question.

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

 

If Patrick could feel any kind of emotion he’d find the image the three make, sitting on the sofa chins rested on their palms, comical.

Squeezed in the middle between Tyler and Artem he feels nothing. He just breathes out from time to time in the off chance he can get rid of this void inside him.

“Don’t be like this, Pat.” Tyler urges. “You’ll get used to it. Before you know it, the ex-husband will roll off your tongue with ease.”

“You’ve off your rocker.” He impassively states. He wishes he could cry and yell and tell his friend to fuck right off but he just can’t be bothered.

The door bell rings and for a moment a hint of annoyance nudges him but it disappears again leaving him numb. “Can you get it, Ty? Whoever it is, just tell them to leave. I’m not in the mood.”

Artem is the one who stands up. “Don’t worry about it. I got this.”

Patrick can’t find it in himself to even shrug; he just stays there staring into space.

He only feels like a real person again, one filled with fury, when Andrew’s booming voice reaches his ears.  He comes crashing in like a bull in a china shop.

“How dare you?” Patrick growls. “What do you want? I’ve got nothing left. You already got Jonny.”

“Me?” Andrew bellows. “You’re the home-wrecker!”

Patrick doesn’t see the punch coming his way but it doesn’t reach him. Artem stops it mid-way. Tyler shoves him aside and gets in the mix. Andrew is kicking and screaming trying to free himself from the restrains while the other two try to calm him down.

No one notices they have company until there’s a chorus of concerned ‘Hey, hey.’

“What’s going on here?” Brandon asks. “Andrew? What are you doing here?”

Andrew stops fighting so the others let him go. “Me? What about you? And with your lover’s husband.” He literally spits at Brandon’s feet.

Brandon doesn’t answer. He just grabs him by the arm tight enough for Andrew to yelp. “Let’s go. We need to talk.”

Andrew resists as best as he can repeating “Let me go” over and over but his husband is stronger than him. Before they disappear out of his sight, Patrick catches the remorse for his action in Brandon’s eyes. It pains him more to have to hurt Andrew even like that.

He doesn’t see how, after everything, but he thinks there’s some hope for those two. Patrick can give Jonny neither absolution nor forgiveness. He’s not sure if he wants to be jealous of Brandon or pity him.

“Um ...” Artem tries to catch their attention, “there’s -- there’s a guy here.” He gestures towards the front door.

Four sets of eyes look at where he is pointing. There’s a collective gasping sound when they see Brent at his current state. He looks... haunted. That’s the only word Patrick can think to describe him.

Fully bearded, shaggy hair falling in his face, clothes that seem two sizes too big for him, he looks like he haven’t slept in months. “Duncs?”

Everyone’s gaze shift to Duncan. “What are you doing here?” Duncan bites out and his harsh tone startles Patrick.

He doesn’t understand why everyone is acting so strangely and he’s really worried about his friend. He rushes to his side and makes sure not to hug him tight enough afraid he will break. “Hey, Brent.” He welcomes softly.

“Has he been here all this time?” Brent asks him, forgoing greetings.

Patrick frowns. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve been trying a whole week to find him.” Brent explains but still eyes him suspiciously as if he doubts Patrick’s puzzlement.

“Why don’t you go back to your mistress and spare me the melodrama?” Duncan says from somewhere behind him.

Patrick snaps his head Duncs’ way then turns back to Brent. “Mistress?”

“Tell them.” He hears Jonny urging him. No one speaks for a while. “Duncan caught them in his practise.” His husband finally supplies.

“That’s bull and you know it.” Brent shouts scaring Patrick with his ferocity.

“All I know is that you had your hand shoved down her skirt. Or was I imagining that, too?” Duncan’s voice is even louder as if he tries to outshout his husband.

“I was massaging her, trying to loosen her pectineus muscle!”

Duncan scoffs. “Is that fancy medical talk for pus-“

“Don’t.” Brent warns.

“I bet you did an excellent job by the way she was screaming,” Duncan goes on leaving his previous sentence unfinished “and of course you had to take off her underwear to have room to work.”

Brent grunts in frustration. “She was in pain for fuck’s sake. And she was fully clothed. She wore a nude bodice like ice skaters do!”

“How convenient!” Duncan huffs.

“Duncs, you know her,” Brent’s tone now changing to pleading, “she’s a lesbian! Her wife was right there in the sofa!”

Duncan doesn’t seem to listen to reason. “Spare me the kinky details.”

Patrick’s head is spinning. Absorbing so much conflicting data in such a short amount of time makes his brain cells fall asleep. “Let’s just all calm down and sort this mess.”

He takes Brent by the hand and sits him down on the sofa making sure to keep him at a safe distance from his husband. Artem and Tyler rush to his side while Jonny and Duncan stay put. It’s like their living room is a war zone and they’re divided in teams.

“Let’s talk about it rationally.” He suggests as soon as everyone is settled.

“There’s no use trying reasoning with him, Pat.” Brent says dejected. “It’s those damn books! They’re turning him into a paranoid asshole. I just thought, since he was here with you and all, that he’d take the time to see what he’s putting us through.”

“Wow, wow,” Jonny intervenes for the first time, “hold on what do you mean? What books?”

“Crime stories, serial killer profile analysis, spy books, you name it. He’s read them all and he sees potential copy-cats everywhere.” Brent unbridles. He reaches inside his pocket and retrieves two paperback books and throws them on the coffee table. “Here are his latest reads.”

Every head except Duncan’s lowers to take a look at the covers. “The Cheaters” the first one reads followed by ‘Signs of Infidelity’.

Everyone turns to look at Duncs except Jonny. With a shaky voice he addresses Brent. “What -- what about the signs. The phone call and the name? The jaunts?”

All eyes are on Brent who lowers his eyes. “That was my fault. I thought -- I thought if I gave him a mystery of his own to solve... Then Niklas gave me this book...”

“Jealousy strategies for beginners.” Patrick mutters having finally solved the puzzle, the picture crystal clear before his eyes.

“Yeah, that one.” Brent confirms. “Have you read it?”

Patrick shakes his head in negation. “No, but I know someone who has.” He potently stares at a sheepish looking Tyler. “We’re both the same brand of idiots, Brent.” He admits.

The time has come for Patrick to stop wallowing in self pity and start taking responsibility for his own stupid choices.

Jonny must have decided the same because when Patrick stands to go to him, his husband meets him half way.

They stare into each other’s eyes and Patrick hears it all even before Jonny starts to talk. “Patrick, I -- I never- Duncs’ said, and I was desperate, babe, I -- You have to believe me.“ He pleads. “I would never -“

Patrick shushes him with a finger on his lips. “I know.” He assures.

“You do?” Jonny, cautiously optimistic, asks.

Patrick caresses his husband’s lips with his thumb, moving down to his jaw until he lets it rest in his favourite spot, right over the mole at the tip of his earlobe. “I do now. And I’ve never -- either.” He doesn’t want to use the word; he doesn’t want to acknowledge its existence ever again.

Jonny wraps him into a bone-crashing embrace, Patrick’s hands closing around his husband’s waistline with the same ferocity, together forming a cocoon that will shield them from any harm; both of them breathing their apologies and absolutions.

Someone wolf whistles -Patrick’s money is on Tyler- breaking the spell. He’s not bothered by it much because even if they widen the space between them Jonny’s right arm is still wrapped around his shoulder, holding him close to his chest. Jonny is still smiling fondly at him and Patrick beams his way.

Duncan is on his knees in front of the sofa, head tugged close to his husband’s chest as well letting his own granted forgiveness sip right through him, as Brent caresses him hair affectionately.

Tyler smirks at him when their eyes meet and the eye roll comes naturally to Patrick.

Jonny lowers his arm, making Patrick whine in protest. His husband clears his throat, ready to speak but not before he holds Patrick’s hand entwining their fingers. “Now that we’re done with all the feelings crap,” he tries to sound put out but his smile makes it a moot point, “can we all just go crash?”

His suggestion is met with a couple variations of yes, Tyler’s ‘fuck yes’ being the louder. They are all exhausted both physically and mentally.

Brent and Duncan stand up to leave when Jonny comes up with another one. “How about ‘Steeger’s’ tonight?” He suggests.

“Really?” Pat jumps excitedly at the words.

Jonny nods mutely, pecking him softly and, sadly Patrick might add, quickly on the lips. Then again, the rest of their lives is still ahead of them.

Brent and Duncan have a swift silent discussion with their eyes. “Is Andrew invited, too?” Duncan inquires with narrowed eyes. It makes Jonny laugh wholeheartedly, a sound that’s music to Patrick’s ears.

“We’re in.” Brent announces, dragging a pouting Duncan away and out of the house. They can still hear his grouchy yammering even after Brent has closed the door behind them.

“Are we really inviting them?” Patrick asks. He’s not sure how he feels about it, everything still so raw and recent. There are talks to be had, he thinks, before they put the matter behind them once and for all.

 “Yep.” Jonny says chirpily as he grins down at him.

“Did you notice,” Artem speaks and Patrick feels bad for almost forgetting he is still there, “there aren’t any sounds coming from upstairs? Do you think they killed each other?” His tone is laced with genuine concern.

“Nah,” Tyler chimes in, “we’d have heard Andrew squeal. He’s not exactly the quiet type.”

Everyone chuckles but Tyler’s face falls a little when Jonny’s attention focuses on him. “Jon, I -- I’m really sorry,” he genuinely apologises, “I never meant --“

“Shut up, Seguin.” Jonny orders but he follows it with a lopsided smile making Tyler exhale in relief.

Tyler claps his hands together. “Now that everything’s settled, I --“he hesitates, biting at his bottom lip and looking hesitantly at Patrick, “I think I’m gonna leave.”

“Seriously, Tyler, you don’t have to --“Jonny tries to assure but Patrick stops him mid-sentence knowing that his husband has misinterpreted Tyler’s intentions.

“Are you sure?” He questions.

Tyler replies with an uncertain shrug. “Won’t know until I try.”

Patrick gives him an understanding nod. Additional words are not needed between them. His friend is granting Brown his second chance. Patrick only hopes it ends well for him. “Can you at least stay the night?”

“Fuck yes!” Tyler beams, “’Steegers’ baby!’”

“Artem, you’re in too, kid.” Patrick tells instead of asking. “And bring that boyfriend of yours along. I want to meet him.”

“Uhm ... yeah, about that...” Artem mumbles, “we’re not ... it’s complicated.”

“Nonsense,” he hand waves dismissively, “Perfectly safe, I promise.”

Artem starts to protest again. “Yeah, it’s not that... We’re...” He closes his eyes shut and rubs his temples with shaking hands.

It takes a while but he finally says, “We’ll be there.”

 

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my fifteenth HockeyRPF fic and though I've done a couple different things I've never done a collaboration, which is what I'd like to do next. If anyone is interested in co-writing a story with me message me on [tumblr](http://oflovesandlikes.tumblr.com/) or leave me a comment here if you don't have one.
> 
> Due to the incident mentioned in the introductory notes, I've figured there have be other people out there who just need that extra push to try the thing they love but they are still afraid or doubting themselves and their writing abilities. I'm looking forward to hearing from you the most.


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